Eat or die
by Plush Panda
Summary: Abandoned in a post-apocalyptic world, Rachel is ready to end her life. Until she meets her new travel companion, Quinn. Zombieland-esque crack. Supernatural!AU. Faberry.
1. Chapter 1

**Eat or die**

**Summary: **Abandoned in a post-apocalyptic world, Rachel is ready to end her life. Until she meets her new travel companion, Quinn. Zombies. Supernatural!AU. Faberry.

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><p>Rachel swept her eyes over the rooftop she was sitting on, over the edge and across the post-apocalyptic scenery. The sight of blackened buildings and ruined streets would be her very last view and the not-so-distant moaning of zombies would be the last sounds to grace her ears. It was her fault; she'd insisted her friends leave her behind with her leg in such a horrid state. One incident with a machete and she was left with a nasty gash that made it impossible for her to run. And running was required to get to their truck in the parking lot. She knew from experience that she'd keep up the group, which would eventually lead to even more causalities. It was the survival of the fittest.<p>

That, and she had a feeling that the wound was starting to infect.

She turned her eyes on the gun in her lap. At least she'd go out with a bang. It was nothing like the metaphorical bang she had always envisioned, before the world went to hell, but it sounded like heaven compared to a dozen zombies gnawing on her bones.

With a sigh, she settled on her decision. While her life hadn't been perfect, she'd lived with as little regrets as possible. Now she was offered an as graceful way out as the situation allowed her and she was going to take it.

With the end of her life in sight, she was doubly surprised to see the blonde woman standing in front of her when she looked up. Her first thought went to the undead having made their way onto the roof, but she was sitting against the only entrance up to the deserted place. The woman also looked nothing like a walking corpse. In fact, she looked the cleanest and most well fed than any other person Rachel had met in the last year – which, granted, weren't that many, but still.

"Are you okay?" the woman spoke, looking worried as she took a few steps closer. Rachel could only look on in incomprehension. The blonde looked so untouched by all the misery that was going on around them that she had trouble confirming she was real. In the pink hoodie, casual jeans and black leather boots, she looked lost in the environment, out of context.

The woman stopped, barely a few feet away from her. She was suddenly sporting a confused expression. "You're not a zombie, are you?"

This finally snapped Rachel out of her daze. She shook off the confusion. "No. No, I'm not."

The woman smiled and closed the distance between them, kneeling in front of the brunette. Rachel took a moment to wonder if maybe she had already shot herself and an angel had come to get her.

Kind, hazel eyes darted down to her bloody leg and the gun in her lap. "Were you going to kill yourself?" she asked, having the nerve to glance up at her in a mildly disapproving fashion.

Rachel scoffed at this. "What else is there for me?" She looked down at her one way ticket to permanent relief. "Recuperation time longer than a day spells out a very painful, drawn out death, and in case you haven't noticed, I'm kind of low on _everything,_ including proper supplies."

The woman relented with a vague nod of her head, then leaned forward into her personal space and became serious. "I want to offer you a deal." When Rachel's only reaction was to flatten herself into the door she was sitting up against, she continued, "And you can't back out of it."

Rachel blinked. "Okay?"

"I'll take care of you if you take care of me." She purposely let her eyes drop to the ruined jeans.

"That sounds awfully ambiguous," Rachel muttered hesitantly. At an expectant raise of the eyebrows, she relented. What else could she do? Arrange a bargain with her gun to hit her straight in the pleasure center of her brain? "Alright, you have yourself a deal. Though if I'm eaten alive, don't think I won't spare any energy in trying to come back to haunt you." Despite her words, she held out a hand.

The woman laughed, shaking her head. Short, shoulder length hair bounced as if she just came from a stylist appointment. "Fair enough," she agreed, reaching out to shake Rachel's hand. "What's your name?"

Rachel barely had the time to notice how cold the woman's hand felt to the touch before she had already retracted her hand. "Rachel."

"Well, Rachel." She stood up, taking off her backpack and ditching it next to her on the ground. "I'm going to find some things for your leg." She took a few steps in a random direction, away from the only exit Rachel thought the roof had, then seemed to remember something and turned to make eye contact with the other woman. "Try not to kill yourself while I'm gone, okay?"

She laughed at the way Rachel rolled her eyes before disappearing behind the tiny building that was the staircase.

It took a moment, and more than a few glances at the backpack carelessly deposited next to her, but Rachel realized that there was a possibility she may be able to postpone her death, if even by a few hours.

With every few seconds that passed by, a wave of incredulousness washed over her, so she settled on hugging the foreign backpack to her front; a definite reminder that she had to hold on for the mysterious stranger.

Rachel rolled her eyes at the thought.

Her big bang could wait.

By the time the stranger returned, the sun was already high up in the air. The blonde was holding a plastic bag with supplies and it wasn't until Rachel got curious that she realized she could've searched through the woman's backpack in the time she was gone.

"I see you kept your end of the bargain," she said airily, as if it wasn't the end of the world and they were discussing the weather.

Rachel smiled feebly in return. "If you turn out to be a cannibal, I'm going to be seriously disappointed that I have."

The blonde chuckled at that, and settled down in front of the other girl. She either had no sense of personal space, or had forgotten about social etiquette, because she always seemed to sit a little too close. She pulled out the items she brought with her and Rachel's eyes widened as she saw the two oranges being offered at her. She must've been staring on incredulously, because the mystery stranger practically pushed them into her arms. "Take them. They're yours."

She didn't need to be told twice and then she was practically ripping into them with shaky hands. "I take it back," she said quickly. "If you are a cannibal, this is one hell of a way to go." Once she had the fruit peeled enough and had her first taste of fresh fruit in what seemed like forever, she was sure her taste buds – scratch that – her entire body must've had an orgasm. She was vaguely aware that the stranger released another chuckle at her drawn out moan. "What's your name?" she asked through a mouthful, set on demystifying the woman.

"Quinn," she replied. "Quinn Fabray." There was still a small smile on her face, and despite every alarm bell going off in Rachel's head, she decided that she liked Quinn Fabray.

"Well, Quinn," she started as the aforementioned girl started pulling out two bottles of water. "I…" She faltered. She hadn't had this much luxury in what seemed like forever. "Are you sure you're not going to offer me to some obscure God?"

"No, nothing like that," she answered with another amused chuckle. Rachel got slightly worried when the smile died down, but wisely kept her mouth shut until the woman proceeded. "Rachel, I'm a vampire."

If the giant ERROR message hadn't popped up in her mind, Rachel would've probably laughed right about now.

"I'm only telling you because you humans do such stupid things when they think they're being deceived, so I'm saying this now." Hazel eyes looked straight at her. "I'm a vampire and I'm taking care of you because I can and it's inhumane not to, but also because—because I haven't fed in a really long time and I get so goddamned hungry."

Rachel's jaw slackened, and she was pretty sure she was gaping. There was a moment of complete and utter incomprehension, but then again, they were currently surrounded by hordes of zombies, so why couldn't vampires exist either? The fact that she wasn't already dead and being taken care of instead was reason enough for Rachel to like her. No painful death equaled good. No painful death and eating like a queen equaled mindblowingly awesome. So she simply shrugged. "Okay."

Quinn gazed at her, trying to gauge her sanity. "Are you for real?"

The brunette took a big bite from the orange, delighted as her mouth filled with sweet juices. "Granted, I'm having issues believing your story," she said, not bothering with proper dinner etiquette. "But regardless, I'm eating my first orange in months and you're promising protection. Right now, anything's better than a bullet in the brain, and your alternative is simply divine."

The vampire stared a little longer. "You're serious," she half asked, half stated. Rachel gave her a look as she continued to inhale the orange. "Okay then." She reached out for Rachel's leg, then, and despite the woman's easy acceptance of the story, she still pulled back. Quinn rested her hands on the floor in front of the brunette and gave her an amused look. "We can do this in two ways. Either you let me fix you up with these bandages and alcohol," she held up the white plastic bag pointedly, "or I heal you right up."

By now, Rachel had reached for the second orange. She paused in her peeling of the fruit. "What do you mean?"

"As a vampire, I can heal wounds if they're small and fresh enough," she explained, sniffing the air briefly. "And by the smell of it, you must've gotten wounded not long ago."

The way her clear eyes trailed over her wounded leg made Rachel feel slightly uncomfortable, but she refused to squirm. Then it hit her. Small, fresh wounds caused by vampires usually involved biting, so… "Does this healing involve the combination of my leg and your mouth by any chance?"

Quinn's eyes shot up at the comment, but then she averted them in an almost bashful manner. "Yes," she muttered.

Rachel beamed at her own cleverness, continuing the process of eating the second orange. "Does it hurt?"

Quinn adopted her previously amused look, now tinted by something akin to fascination. "No." She observed the girl as she popped in a piece of fruit. "I've heard it's quite nice."

"Then go ahead," she said, propping up her leg with some difficulty until it was bent at the knee. "It's been killing me since the very first moment."

The blonde's eyes twinkled, slowly trailing down along her body. "I can see how you survived this long."

Rachel looked up, the question written across her face.

"You adapt fast," Quinn remarked, worrying her lower lip between her teeth, unknowingly baring her fangs to the other woman. It looked like she was holding herself back as she reached for the hurt leg with forced calmness. The removal of the bloodied rags that bound Rachel's legs didn't happen without a few winces and hisses, but afterwards, the diagonal slash was revealed. It looked deep and painful, blood seeping freely without the wrap.

Rachel became slightly worried at the hungry stare. "When is the last time you… fed?"

Quinn blinked once, twice, before raising her eyes with the greatest difficulty. "Sorry?"

"When is the last time you fed?" she repeated.

"Oh, um… Oh goodness, I don't know, a month maybe?" She furrowed her brow, a brief glance downwards betraying her anxiousness. Rachel noticed with some morbid fascination that the clear hazel color of her eyes was replaced by the black of blown out pupils.

"I don't know how I've survived so far," Rachel muttered to herself, and patted the thigh of her wounded leg. "Do it before I change my mind."

Quinn nodded tersely, her hands immediately shooting out to rip off the offending lower half of her jeans. The sudden, rather loud rip startled the brunette into thinking her flesh was being torn, but she was relieved to find out otherwise. Quinn went on unhindered, throwing the dirty piece of cloth that used to be Rachel's jeans to the side. If she'd been in any coherent state of mind, she would've probably commented on how surprised she was it hadn't already infected. Instead, she lifted the wounded limb with steady hands as far as was comfortable for the other woman, and leaned down.

Rachel had expected a sharp sting despite the reassurance – any kind of pain, really – but was pleasantly surprised to feel a cool numbness spread through her calf at the first tough of lips. There was something decidedly erotic about the way Quinn ran her tongue along the enflamed skin of her wound, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Soothing, cool lips and tongue were easing her pain in the most wondrous of ways and it was all she could do not to rumble in pleasure.

The image of Quinn reverently cleaning all the blood from her flesh was almost a poetic sight to behold. A twisted, beautifully morbid sight, but a sight nevertheless. She was slightly worried when that mouth strayed to the deepest part of her wound, but when it made contact, things only got better. Despite that it felt as if the vampire had been sucking on ice and was spreading the coolness to her via a rather unconventional method, a rush of warm tingles erupted from beneath those heavenly lips. The coolness stayed around the wound, creating a strange fizzy feeling as the flesh started to knit together, but the warmth spread and spread until it was seeping into her upper thigh. While it was one of the most comfortable feelings she had experienced in quite a while, she began to panic as it trickled higher towards her heart. She may not know how exactly things worked, but she did know that it felt bad and that her gut feeling had saved her more than once.

"Stop!" she said hurriedly, with a violence she hadn't meant to use.

Despite that Rachel had hardly moved at all – which was a miraculous feat of itself – Quinn flinched back a good feet at the command. Dangerously alert eyes stared straight at her, and for a moment the brunette was taken aback with how feral she looked, hunched and ready to strike.

She was officially convinced that the vampire held true.

"Quinn?" she tried carefully, almost afraid to make any sudden movements.

With what seemed to be a great deal of difficulty, the vampire blinked away the rougher edges of her somewhat extreme condition. "What?" It was a simple question, but it was spoken with so much unintentional authority that Rachel almost offered back her leg – which was now practically healed, with only a thin pink scar to show for it. Her frightened state must've showed, because Quinn then closed her eyes and seemed to take a moment to reign in the beast. When those eyes opened back up, Rachel was very pleased to be met with hazel irises. "Too much?" she asked, sounding much more like the young adolescent woman she was.

Rachel let out a relieved breath. "Yes." She hesitated, not sure how to continue. "Is it supposed to feel like that?"

"Like what?" The blonde took a noticeable effort not to breathe, and her remarkably immobile state unnerved Rachel, but she pressed on.

"Like you're slowly taking command of my body and telling it to feel all kinds of pleasurable things instead of what should surely have been unholy, scorching pain."

Quinn quirked a smile at the description. "That sounds about accurate."

"Well okay then," she said with a chipperness that was entirely inappropriate for the situation, then moved to get up as if a vampire sucking the life into her – the irony didn't go past her – was a daily occurrence. "We should probably remove ourselves from the premise and obtain a better hiding place."

Quinn, perhaps looking as surprised as Rachel should have been, took a moment to shake the cobwebs from her mind before agreeing.

Rachel moved to the edge of the roof, partly fascinated by the painless effort it took to use her previously incapacitated leg, but mostly focused on the next important task at hand. She glanced over the edge of the roof, taking in the long way down and the horde of zombies scrambling at the bottom. They were no doubt attracted to the ruckus they made this morning and were hanging about mindlessly. "Though how we'll get away from this place is a mystery," she said, sending Quinn a meaningful look.

The woman in question was in the process of donning her backpack when she realized the hint. "I ran," she answered as she came to stand next to the other woman. At the insistence of Rachel's questioning expression, she added, "And jumped."

"What, so you'll carry me as you free run through the city?" she asked in mild disbelief.

"Do you have any stuff with you?"

"You're serious?" Rachel asked. Quinn looked around as she searched for some kind of rations, easily avoiding the question. The brunette sighed. "Since I'm not a greedy dead woman, no. Not particularly." She looked down at the gun in her hand. "Though they were graceful enough to lend me the malfunctioning weapon."

The vampire, adopting a sympathetic look, took it wordlessly and chucked it over the edge of the roof. "You won't be needing that." Then, with a considerably lighter demeanor, added, "I'll take you to the closest safe house I know." And before Rachel could properly process what she meant, hands were already at her knees and shoulders, suddenly carrying her. Her own hands had shot out to stabilize herself on Quinn's shoulders, locking them in a somewhat awkward half embrace. It was nowhere near as intimate as the Soul Sucking (as Rachel had so graciously dubbed it in her mind), but a little strange nevertheless.

"Is this the part where you tell me to hold on?" Rachel asked somewhat skeptically, her arms tightening around Quinn's neck nevertheless.

Quinn almost snorted in reply. "If you like." She shifted their weight until she was comfortably holding her. "I'm hardly going to let you fall just because you're not holding on properly."

"Good." Rachel looked up at Quinn when they didn't immediately move, surprisingly unbothered by their proximity. "What are you waiting for?"

Once again Quinn shook her head in amused disbelief, but otherwise didn't say anything as she leapt clean off the ledge and onto the adjoining building.

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><p><strong>Yes. Yes, I have gone crazy. <strong>

**There is plot for the next chapters. Messy, gory plot. But should I not find any inspiration to continue this, then I can stop right here and claim it was a somewhat pointless oneshot.**

**I'm ashamed to admit I updated this in the hopes that reviews would motivate me to write (better).**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"That was amazing!" Rachel breathed, still clutching at Quinn's hoodie even though she had been put down. They were now standing on one of the largest flat roofs around. The surface was covered in white gravel and every time they moved it crunched reassuringly underneath their feet. The blonde only seemed to allow their proximity because it looked like the other woman would tip over at any moment from sheer amazement. "Are you always that fast?" Before Quinn could answer, she continued, "Wait. We could use this. I didn't think it was possible at first, but now we can actually catch up to my friends and—"

"No," Quinn cut in sharply, effectively bringing Rachel back down to earth.

Rachel's smile dropped as she caught the serious expression that marred Quinn's face. Brown eyes glimmered briefly with rejection before they hardened with resolution. "Why not?"

Quinn frowned – a strange contrast to the lighthearted air she'd been sporting as of yet – and pulled away from Rachel's grasp. "We had a deal."

Rachel didn't think twice. "And I can still honor it if you come with me," she persisted.

"No!" Quinn growled, returning to her previous position in Rachel's personal space, though for entirely different reasons. Rachel took a frightened step backwards at the intrusion. "You know what happens if I come with you to join your friends?" She didn't allow Rachel to form an answer. "_When_ they find out I like to do unholy things to your neck – because they will eventually find out – they might be cool with things at first, but then someone will die and hey, who gets the blame for not being fast or strong enough? Who is another undead member of society? Who should be resting six feet under the ground along with the rest of the walking dead? Who, Rachel?"

Rachel flinched at her tone and the blatant disagreement – anger? – reflected in those hazel eyes. Despite being successfully cornered, she couldn't shake the feeling that Quinn was talking from experience. "It doesn't have to be—"

"I refuse," Quinn interrupted.

Being refused with such a – in her eyes – irrational argument sparked some life into Rachel. "So what? I'll be your personal lunchbox for all eternity, allowed no freedom whatsoever?" she bit back. "Well forgive me, but I'd rather have my gun back, please." She didn't mean those words, not when she had the full function of her body and a general idea of where her friends went, but it just wasn't in her nature to be beat down into a submissive position so easily. And it appeared to have worked, for Quinn now looked visibly taken aback.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not taking you back," she said with considerably less fire in her words. If Rachel looked closer, she could even spot regret, but she wasn't looking at all. She was in the process of pushing Quinn aside. Physically.

"Then get out of my way so I can at least end my life prematurely by trying to get there on my own." Quinn didn't budge at her insistence, however, further pissing her off.

"Rachel, don't be stupid," Quinn sighed.

"This is not stupid. Stupid is when you think I'll willingly go along with your plan to enslave me—"

"Rachel!" she interrupted her, and thankfully, the brunette remained quiet long enough for her to have her say. "I am not going to enslave you for all eternity! I was simply going to suggest you… _help_ me a few times before I send you on your way." She shot her a look. "Where are you even getting these ideas?"

"Oh." She visibly deflated as the words sank in, though there was no apology in either her exclamation or her body language. "You can hardly blame me. After all, you _are_ a vampire. The undead have hardly acquired an amiable reputation."

"Which automatically makes me as coldhearted and ruthless as the rest?" Quinn walked to the fire escape at the side of the huge building, clearly not amused at the turn in the conversation.

"For all I know," Rachel confirmed, following her. "You're the first vampire I've met. Reacting with prudence is preferable to looking back and regretting not having taken certain actions."

Quinn briefly entertained the idea of Rachel's group ditching her because of her mouth rather than her handicap. Who took that long to say 'better safe than sorry' anyway? "Are you always like this?"

"Cautious?"

"Annoyingly longwinded," she answered flatly, starting to make her way down the fire escape.

Rachel huffed, hardly unfamiliar with the jab, but continued to follow the blonde down the crummy iron stairs anyway. "I'll have you know, there's nothing wrong with a little eloquence."

Quinn barely managed to keep from snorting in reply. She stopped in front of one of the emergency exits and turned to the brunette, who, against expectations, didn't launch into a full defensive speech about the positive side effects of eloquence. "There are zombies inside. Do I or do I not need to remind you what zombies are attracted to?"

"Your safe house has zombies?" Rachel exclaimed in surprise, then finally bothered to look around. They were surrounded by a rather spacious parking lot that was riddled with a scant few moaning undead. The building they were about to enter was almost just as large. "A mall, really?" At Quinn's exasperated purse of the lips, she figured she better not push her luck. "While I do believe I have survived this long for a reason, I'm curious as to what information you have gathered."

"Sound," was the simple reply. "And movement."

"That's it? What about smell?"

Quinn wrenched open the door with a loud screech and what looked like deceptive ease. "Last time I checked, humans weren't bloodhounds. Dying doesn't particularly help either. Stand back." She motioned for Rachel to step back, and, though a little puzzled, she complied. Not a second later, a rotten corpse came rushing out, but before Rachel could even comprehend what was happening, Quinn had already pushed him over the railing of the fire escape. A sickening crack resounded dully from below.

Rachel gaped.

"Stay close to me and you'll be okay," Quinn said with a smug smile. The brunette made to say something. "And be quiet. We need the element of surprise."

Rachel snapped her mouth shut, following the vampire into the building with an eye roll. The emergency exit led them to the official staircase of the mall and Rachel followed Quinn as she made her way downstairs, sometimes pausing to either sniff the air or listen extra closely for the undead. _Or to make me uncomfortable, _Rachel thought with a huff.

"Do you know how to kill zombies?" Quinn interrupted the silence, entering a door that was marked with a big two.

"What happened to the element of surprise?" Rachel asked, more spiteful than she had originally meant. When Quinn turned her head to shoot the woman a questioning look, she relented. "Shoot the head." It felt like a mantra she'd never forget, and that's the way it came out as well.

The blonde led them through a white hall with a dirty blue floor, and with no other incoming zombies – if Quinn's breaking of the silence was any indication – she opened a door that read 'Security.'

"Sounds to me like you could use some work," the vampire remarked absentmindedly, walking into the room. It was a spacious room, with one wall littered with televisions. The televisions were resting on a desk, while underneath there appeared to be what looked like a mini fridge. A small jail was set up at the other end of the room. With some interest, Rachel noted that a rather large, comfortable bed was placed in the jail, taking up almost all the available space.

"What do you mean, I need more work?" Rachel eyed the bed with increasing fatigue until she noticed Quinn rummaging around the fridge that, upon further inspection, was powered by a sack of ice cubes. She hardly had the time to wonder where she got the ice.

"I mean I can show you more ways to kill them," she explained, standing up with two cans of food in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. Kicking the door shut, she placed the items on the desk. "This is for you." She turned to Rachel, who did a remarkably good job of not tripping over her own two feet as she got to the food and sat herself down at the desk chair. "I want to feed off you five times before I bring you back."

"Two," the brunette bargained even as she struggled to open the can of tuna.

Quinn pulled a plastic fork from one of the backpacks that had previously been hidden from sight underneath the desk and put it down in front of the woman. She crinkled her nose once the can was opened, no doubt unused to the strong smell. "Four."

"Three. Take it or leave it." With that, she took the fork and dug into her meal. At the following silence, she looked up at the somewhat difficult face Quinn was pulling. Hazel eyes met hers, and she was slightly startled at the intensity in them.

"Three, but you need to be at top form every time I do it."

Rachel nodded. "Fair enough."

There was a lull in the conversation that neither of them filled for a moment. Rachel was glad for the food and how it created an excuse to remain silent. Quinn, on the other hand, shifted slightly on her feet. "So," she shattered the silence, moving to sit down in front of Rachel on the floor. "What did you do before all hell broke loose?"

Rachel looked up from her meal, only to find genuine curiosity in those hazel eyes. She waited another moment longer, just in case it was a false sentiment, before hesitantly beginning the shortest possible recap she could offer about her dreams of Broadway. Surprisingly enough, Quinn prodded for details, and she seemed genuinely interested as Rachel gave them. With a little extra of course. It was such a stark contrast to how her friends usually cut her off in the middle of a sentence – especially Santana – that she wondered if she really hadn't died on that fateful roof.

Halfway through an anecdote about her first audition, the brunette reasoned that Quinn must have been desperate for company if she was able to look that interested for such a long time. Either that, or she was zoning out at the right times, maybe even pretending to be interested to coerce her into more feeding time. Whatever the case, Rachel relished in the attention well into the evening.

"Are you tired?"

"Hmn?" Rachel looked down at the blonde with shiny eyes from her latest yawn. Realizing she had been, in fact, yawning on and off for the better part of the last few moments, she nodded sheepishly.

Quinn grinned as if that had been her first time correctly naming a human emotion before standing up and showing her what Rachel thought was the softest bed to have ever graced the earth. "I'll join you later," she said, closing the jail door behind her. "So don't go stabbing me to death when you feel the bed dip."

"Don't be ridiculous," Rachel sighed, getting comfortable. "I don't have a knife with me."

The last thing she was conscious of before sleep overcame her was a familiar chuckle. Normally, she wouldn't have fallen asleep this fast, but normally, she wouldn't be sleeping behind bars with a vampire for protection.

Rachel awoke to a suspicious sound. It was a silent rattle, but it was the proximity that unnerved her. Her surroundings were bathed in darkness. She couldn't see a hand before eyes, so she did the first thing that came to mind. "Quinn, wake up!"

Quinn shot up from her the place where her face had been buried in Rachel's hair, a protective hand coming to rest reflexively on her hip. "What?"

"… were you spooning me?" Rachel's voice was full of disbelief. The hand on her hip disappeared instantly.

"What?" she repeated, sounding even more confused at the change from panic to casual conversation.

Another rattle, and Rachel immediately forgot about needing to be flattered or creeped out. "There's something in the room!" the brunette insisted, turning around to face Quinn and the sound. She was met with reflecting, catlike eyes, temporarily making her freeze up with fear before realizing that it was Quinn with one of her supernatural abilities. The eyes flitted across the room and then the vampire's reassuring voice sounded.

"That's just Frederique, something of a pet mouse." The eyes were back on her and when she produced another chuckle, Rachel was distinctly aware of how Quinn could see her confused facial expression through the darkness.

"You keep a dead mouse?"

"Of course not. Don't be ridiculous. He's still alive, and in a cage at the moment."

A moment's pause wherein they both gathered their thoughts.

"Why were you spooning me?" came Rachel's question, moving on just like that. As long as the mouse was in a cage, it didn't seem so bad.

The bed dipped in such a way, indicating that Quinn fell back on the bed with an exasperated sigh. "I wasn't spooning you."

"Okay, then why were you pressed intimately up against my back?" she asked, also lying back down and using the two shiny orbs that were Quinn's eyes to orientate herself.

"I wasn't pressed up against you, okay? Let it go." The eyes disappeared, no doubt to be closed in frustration.

Another pause.

"Were you sniffing my hair?"

Quinn groaned.

"Do you have a crush on me?"

"Oh my God," she protested, embarrassed. The bed shifted, and from the feel of it, Rachel wouldn't be surprised if she just palmed her face. "If I tell you, will you go back to sleep?"

"That depends on whether or not you were trying to eat me."

Another embarrassed groan. "You're horrible," Quinn muttered, before dropping her arms to the bed and looking straight at the ceiling. "You're warm, okay?"

"I'm… warm," Rachel repeated with an obvious hint of confusion.

"Yes. I don't need warmth, but it's comfortable. You're warm and I'm cold. I don't produce heat, so I searched it out. Cause and effect," Quinn explained forcefully, but with an ever-present hint of embarrassment.

"Well, that's not creepy at all."

"Are you being sarcastic?" Eyes focused on her.

"I'm not sure," she answered, eyebrows knitting together in thought.

The bed shifted again, and Quinn's eyes disappeared. "Go back to sleep," she ordered, clearly still self-conscious.

Rachel stared at where the other woman lay, then, after a considerable amount of consideration and mental berating, she shuffled closer until she could rest her forehead against the back of Quinn's cool neck.

The gentle question came after a while. "What are you doing?"

"I'm feeling a little hot," Rachel replied, afraid to instigate any further contact between them. It was probably improper for two almost strangers to be lying like this, but, as she had determined multiple times before, proper social etiquette was meant for fully functional societies anyway.

After a lengthy pause, "Good night, Rachel."

"Good night," she muttered, closing her eyes and imagining how this all would lead to her being reunited with her friends soon enough.

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><p><strong>Wow, okay. I have decided to continue this. The reviews really did help, surprisingly enough. I would've replied to them, too, except... it's hard to do so when there is no tangible question to respond to. Anyway. THANK YOU REVIEWERS. YES, YOU. THANK YOU.<strong>

**There won't be another update for the duration of my vacation (no internetz, urgh), but I'll be writing, so expect goodness on my return. Maybe even MULTIPLE goodness.**

**Hur hur.**

**Btw, if someone has a ravishingly good idea for this fic, don't be shy. I thrive on suggestions.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

When Rachel woke up the next morning to singing, she was vaguely aware about what transpired the night before. She knew there had been inappropriate touching going on, and that's all she continued to know because she woke up to _singing_.

She shot up like she was late for class and by-passed the scarcely filled tray of food and drink – where did Quinn even find all this stuff? – just so she could see the woman who was currently juggling a mouse from hand to hand as carefree, melodious words tumbled from her mouth. "_You can count on me like one, two, three, I'll be there._"

Rachel's lips tugged up into a smile as she watched Quinn serenade her pet mouse Frederique from her spot on the floor.

"_And I know when I need it I can count on you like four, three, two, and you'll be there._"

More lyrics filled the air and only then did the brunette notice what was off about this scene. She had jolted up pretty abruptly and the bed squeaked in protest, yet Quinn didn't seem to have even noticed. Either that or she chose to ignore her in order to continue… serenading her mouse. A mouse who crawled defiantly up the woman's sleeve without her consent and even managed to draw a yelp from the vampire as it encountered some forbidden, ticklish territory.

Quinn straightened her back spontaneously with a panicked look on her face, and Rachel had to draw her lips in to keep from laughing out loud. But then all her mirth disappeared at the same time as when said blonde raised her hoodie to reach inside and get the offending animal out of her clothes. A mischievous grey Frederique appeared, but Rachel's eyes were glued to the general direction of that pale, flat stomach.

That trim, lean, flat stomach.

_What?_

Rachel shook off the admittedly weird homoerotic thought and focused on her first love; music. Quinn was producing it. She was producing it because there were earplugs in her ears. Earplugs that lead to a battery powered mp3 player. No wonder Quinn didn't pay her any mind—

Wait. Back up.

Mp3 player?

Rachel was off the bed so fast she wouldn't have been surprised she left a trail of dust behind. The jail door opened with a clang and Quinn jumped as an earplug was yanked from her head and another body was deposited roughly next to her on the floor.

"Oh sweet mother of God," Rachel sighed in delight, successfully having hijacked the earplug. "_Music_." She didn't care what artist, what genre, or even whether it was simply good or not. All she cared about was that they were rhythmic sounds and _oh yes_, someone was singing.

So absorbed was she in enjoying her first musical experience in what she now officially dubbed as Forever, that she did not notice the look Quinn was sending her. Nor did she notice how she had sagged against the woman in a rare moment of delight. "You, uh, like music, huh?"

"Marry me." Rachel looked up at the disbelieving blonde. "Really, just— just marry me."

Quinn paused, simply paused, before bursting out into laughter. At the sound, a little grey head with curious black eyes popped out of her hands. "Okay," she said between chuckles, pulling out the remaining ear. "I think it's better if you hold on to this. You obviously get more out of it."

"Thank you."

And then she stopped laughing all together because for the briefest of moments, hands had pulled her face down for a kiss.

On the lips.

She was still processing what happened, but Rachel had already moved on twice, going through the music collection with gusto. Because really, what was she going to do? Leave her to the zombies? Disown her? Whatever the case, Rachel barely noticed the movement around her or the soft clang of a tray being put down until an apple was held in front of her face. Her eyes went cross-eyed to have a proper look at the fruit, and then shimmied up to shoot Quinn a questioning look. The unspoken question was entirely unnecessary, however, so she bit into it and pulled it from her hand.

It took Quinn's smirk for her to realize what just transpired, but even then she didn't appear to much care and continued to eat the apple of her own accord. Social norms were definitely for sissies.

* * *

><p>"I don't see the use in this if you're always going to be around anyway," Rachel complained, lowering her bat from a striking position. Quinn had insisted on practicing how to kill zombies after allowing Rachel to indulge in her music, and now they were back up on the roof, discussing proper batting techniques, including several gory details about how to reach the brain effectively.<p>

"That's the thing." Quinn leaned on her bat with both hands, using as something of a cane. "I won't always be around. You want so yourself."

"If it's a side effect of returning to my friends, even though they generally slave over food and don't bring me music—"

"Or protection," Quinn added smugly.

"—or protection," Rachel said with a glare, knowing what the woman was trying to do. "Then I will gladly make it so, but I never explicitly said I wanted you to be gone."

"So you like having me around?" Quinn asked with what Rachel thought was a repeat of that annoyingly charming smile.

She rolled her eyes to disguise the fact that the taunt hit home. After this long without anyone being any degree of playful, it was hard to adjust to such behavior. Honestly, she wasn't even sure if she was supposed to laugh or not. Where was the post-apocalyptic lighthearted vampire friendship manual when you needed one? "Are we having the same conversation? Didn't I just say I'm enjoying being able to leech off you?"

"How promiscuous of you," she said offhandedly, raising the bat to knock another bottle of the ledge.

"There is a certain degree of hypocrisy in that statement that I'm not sure I appreciate," Rachel commented, her eyes trailing down to the slither of skin that appeared every time Quinn raised her arms to smack a bottle.

"Is there?" One of Quinn's eyebrows quirked upwards in amusement, sending Rachel all kinds of messages that she was unused to receiving. She pulled her arms back, once again revealing more stomach that attracted brown eyes like an innocent pedestrian attracted vehicles in Carmageddon.

"Stop that!" Rachel snapped.

Quinn barely managed to catch herself before avoiding knocking the bottle to smithereens. "What?" She lowered her bat and looked around as if zombies had learned to climb walls before finding Rachel. "What now?"

"Stop making those remarks and stop flaunting your feminine prowess!" Rachel huffed with agitation, pretty sure that her lower lip had jutted out into a pout of its own accord. There was only so much prowess she could handle in a day.

She eyed the woman incredulously. "How am I flaunting my—oh." Her voice started out tinged with irritation, but fell away with a sudden realization. The disbelieving look melted away like snow under the sun. "That's normal," she waved off, vaporizing one of the bottles with a blow so fast Rachel didn't even have time to blink.

"You not explaining anything isn't making me like you any more." Rachel turned to her own bottle and attempted her own strike. The bottle was launched without breaking. She watched it go before palming her face in agitation, feeling Quinn's remark coming a mile away. "Not a word!" she said, cutting off the blonde before she could form a comment.

The dull crash of glass breaking could be heard in the distance.

Quinn leaned on her bat and smiled on in somewhat of a sadistic satisfaction while Rachel realized her error.

"Okay, fine! Words!"

"It takes true skill to suck that much." The quip tumbled from her lips before she could help herself. Rachel sent her another dignified glare and, instead of smacking a bottle, she swiped the bat right from under Quinn, making her stumble marginally. "Fine, fine," she chuckled. Once she regained her footing, her eyes found the brunette again, and with a start, Rachel realized she felt kind of happy. It had been ages since she'd bantered. Despite the not-very-fake annoyance, she was sort of enjoying herself. "The more blood we consume, the more attractive we become to humans."

"That's backwards," Rachel responded almost immediately, earning herself a raised eyebrow.

"How do you figure?" Quinn appeared genuinely curious.

"The hungrier you are, the less able you are to find a human for a meal?" she questioned. "Backwards."

Quinn shook her head despite the accurate observation. "It doesn't work that way."

"Obviously."

She shot the brunette a look, and she backed off accordingly, too curious to protest any further. "The less we eat, the more it's apparent that guile doesn't work, so we're resorted to letting loose the beast." She shrugged. "That's how I see it anyway."

"That does explain a few things," Rachel muttered to herself, staring off into the horizon. It explained a few things, besides the fact that she thought Quinn had been gorgeous back when they first met.

She was so screwed once Quinn's beauty-o-meter filled entirely.

Quinn grimaced at what Rachel assumed was the memory of the beast briefly peeking around the corner when they first met. "Sorry about that."

* * *

><p>"This is your way of apologizing?" Rachel browsed through a rack of shirts in some fancy store named Cool Cat. Comfortable jeans were at the top of her list, since she was still walking around with some seriously ripped pants, but that didn't withhold her from raiding the rows upon rows of pristine clothing.<p>

Rachel could suddenly see the functionality of residing in a mall, despite the odd zombie sighting.

"Not really," Quinn answered from the other side of the store. "I just figured you wanted some clothes without obligatory air-conditioning." The brunette's heart jumped when suddenly Quinn's giddy suggestion came from right behind her. "How about this?"

Rachel turned around, her eyes widening at the sight that greeted her. "Holy hell!" she flinched.

Quinn hung the dress with a floral pattern on a nearby rack without thinking twice, grabbed the baseball bat that protruded from her backpack with one smooth movement, and then proceeded to perform some fancy twirling move to decapitate the incoming zombie with a well placed strike underneath the chin. The head flew loose with an unsettling pop, and the rotting corpse collapsed in front of them.

Rachel covered her nose and mouth with her sleeve. "Oh my God," she coughed. "It's bad enough that the world has come to an end, but do they have to smell like dead sewer cats as well?"

Quinn turned to shoot her a strange look. "You know what dead sewer cats smell like?"

"I have a lively imagination," Rachel countered, accidentally lowering her arm. She gagged, immediately raising her arm again. "How did you not smell that coming?" She looked the calm Quinn up and down. "How are you not running in the opposite direction, begging for fresh air?"

She laughed. "Opposed to human beings, the dead don't need oxygen," she said with that damned smug smile. Rachel wanted to take that smile to a private location and smack it in the face with the sheer size of its haughtiness.

"Technically, you're still a human being." Rachel started moving away from the dead heap of rotting flesh. "Unless you came from outer space and just so happen to have a blood fetish," she muttered to herself.

"Is that a Superman reference?"

"Is that another way to avoid answering my question?" Rachel shot back, sending the vampire a look. The blonde was carrying the dress she had suggested on an arm, an eyebrow high on her forehead. "I'd prefer to be in the loop if you're slowly losing your sense of smell."

Quinn's mouth dropped open in understanding. She caught up with the other woman with a little jog. "You're not the one walking around with a three course meal when you've been starving for the last month or so."

She observed her for a moment, Quinn nonchalantly avoiding her stare by admiring the dress in her arms. "You don't seem very hungry."

They locked eyes then, and for a second, Rachel thought she could see the restraint she was applying in those clear hazel eyes. But then Quinn blinked and Rachel was left to wonder if she was just projecting things onto the woman. "How about a bath?" she chirped, completely going off topic.

"Don't try to change the—wait, what?"

* * *

><p>"Smack it, smack it!" <em>Whomp<em>. "Smack it in the face!" _Crack._ "Swipe its legs! The legs!" _Thump_. "Now impale it through the eye socket!"

Rachel halted mid swing, panting and red from exertion. She shot Quinn, who had been shouting direction from the sideline, a panicked look. "With what? I only have a bat!" she yelled, holding up the object for emphasis. This was not what she was expecting when Quinn suggested a bath. She was expecting the sneaky sucker to just give it to her, but instead, she coerced her into some zombie killing beforehand.

"Eyes on the target!" she flailed in response. Rachel barely dodged a grappling arm and whacked it for good measure. Despite the smell, smacking around a zombie was strangely therapeutic. "Don't think, just do it! Do it, do it, do it!"

Rachel never would've guessed Quinn could turn into such a spaz when coaching. All she needed was a pair of pompoms and she'd make a perfect cheerleader. She was strangely motivating.

_Splurp._

Liquefied brains everywhere.

"You did it!" Quinn was bouncing over, but all Rachel could think about was not being able to throw away the defiled bat fast enough or getting the gore from her arms and shirt and chest and legs and maybe her face, and oh God, that horrid smell, the terrifying images.

She dropped the bat and covered her mouth with a hand, trying to keep the content of her stomach where it belonged.

There was something wet on her face. It was wet. Oh God, it was wet. Lowering her hand, she could see it was wet and brown and black and it sort of moved in this light—

"I'm going to be sick," Rachel groaned, right before she failed in her one goal mission of keeping the party in her stomach.

* * *

><p>"So, how's it going?" Quinn's voice sounded through the walkytalky. Rachel had half a mind to start calling it a walkystalky after the latest question.<p>

"I'm taking a bath and you're asking how it's going?" She scrubbed her arms a little more vigorously. The empty bathroom department was creeping her out as it was, let alone if a scratchy voice kept her company.

"I'm just making sure you're aware of your surroundings," the reply came from the little box on the edge of the tub.

Maybe if she _accidentally_ pushed it into the water…

"I'm naked. Of course I'm aware of my surroundings," she deadpanned, unable to tear her eyes from the mannequin standing in the corner. She was so taking that thing down when she got out.

Some static. "Um, good."

"You're starting to creep me out," she mumbled to the still figure, her eyes going back to the life-sized doll time and time again.

"What, why?" Quinn asked, sounding befuddled through the walkytalky. "It's not like I'm watching you. I'm all the way down in the living room department."

"I was talking about the mannequin, but now that you mention it, talking to you while scrubbing at my privates is pretty darned creepy as well." She glanced around the room again, trying to find a hint of blond hair. "What's the color of the rug you're standing on?" she asked, testing the other woman.

"It's laminated. And I'm sitting."

"Oh." Brown eyes fell on the mannequin again. "Heh, mannequinn."

A beat.

"What?"

"Stop eaves dropping!" she yelled, standing up to reach for a towel.

"I have to! _You_ won't touch the walkytalky when wet," came the dignified response.

"Quinnsolence?" she asked, looking around.

"Really? You're calling me Quinnsolence now?"

"Where are the towels?"

"Oh."

* * *

><p>"You did it!" As soon as she gave the okay and allowed Quinn in her vicinity arms were encircling her waist, lifting her up in a bear hug. She was suddenly smothered in blonde hair, but all Rachel could think about was that horrid smell, the terrifying images. "Your first melee zombie kill!" Quinn all but squealed in her ear as she twirled her around happily.<p>

"I got sick!" Rachel protested, but the twirling never stopped. "I'm going to be sick, have nightmares forever, and _die_," she continued in a whine, burying her nose in Quinn's hair because dear Holy Entity, eau de Quinn just about drowned out the memory of dead, tar dipped, rotting cats from hell during a summer in Death Valley.

And it was somewhat nice.

Like how a marvelous picnic in a field of flowers on a nice summer day was sort of nice when you were starving after swimming in the lake for the last hour.

Somewhat a lot.

"You're fine," Quinn insisted with giddy laughter. Rachel for the life of it could not see what was so enjoyable, but she started to see the humor in it either way. "More than fine! I give you an A+." She made to put down the smaller woman, but she was reluctant to let go (just to drown out the imaginary smell, of course), and suddenly they were just hugging.

"Do you have to talk with exclamation marks at the end of every sentence? My ear is right there." Despite her grumbling, Rachel couldn't contain her smile. Quinn's laughter was just so damned infectious.

"See? More than fine." Quinn nodded against the side of her head.

Rachel could almost hear the grin in her voice. In fact, she was pretty sure it radiated heat straight into the side of her head. Not allowing to show her amusement (or her pride) too much, she backed away with an eye roll. "Quinnsufferable," she remarked, shooting Quinn a look before turning around.

Quinn's smile was blinding as she followed. "You're smiling," she sing-songed, hands clasped behind her back.

Rachel tried wiping it off with everything she had, but couldn't seem to manage.

* * *

><p>"So, you're hungry," Rachel offered conversationally, removing her marshmallow from the fire. She wasn't sure how they ended up on the roof, roasting marshmallows above a cosy fire underneath the stars – down, stray homoerotic thoughts, <em>down<em> – but she had a feeling it had something to do with the mention of sugar and the happy grin Quinn was sporting at that moment.

Though that may have been because she'd opted to wear the dress she picked herself while allowing Rachel her practical ensemble. She was by all means rocking the dress, even in combination with the boots, and for some reason, she looked lighter with the change of clothes. Happy, even.

Rachel bit the inside of her cheek so as not to comment on the impracticality of her wardrobe.

"Hmn?" Hazel eyes looked up from the well done piece of white fluff and fell on Rachel.

"You've been staring at me eat for the last… I'm not even sure how long," she explained, blowing on her treat before trying a bite.

"It's fascinating," Quinn commented, her eyes glued to the lower part of Rachel's face as she ate. "I'd give anything to be able to eat again."

"Then why don't you?"

"Why don't _you_ drink blood?" she shot back, her eyes climbing up Rachel face to show her the permanent amused twinkle in her eyes.

"Because all I'd be able to think about would be HIV and other blood transferable diseases," she mused with a grimace.

Quinn chuckled. "You know what I mean."

Rachel shrugged, impaling another marshmallow on her skewer. She glanced up again when she felt the weight of Quinn's gaze shift to the food and the crackling fire. The blonde looked so alive in the orange light of the campfire, she could almost forget about the question burning on her tongue. Such a healthy glow just couldn't belong to an undead creature. But it did.

She figured the closing of her wound didn't really count as a first feeding, and she had three more to go before it was possible to go back to her friends. It was about time for their first kiss of death, so she could move on. She was well fed, clean, and she generally felt like a spoiled cat whenever she hit a soft surface like the cushion she sat on right then. She was at top form. She could ask this. She totally could.

"What?" Quinn asked, noticing the thoughtful stare.

"Well." She could do this. "I was wondering…" Quinn narrowed her eyes at the unusual hesitance the brunette showed. Rachel swallowed. Why was it so hard? Having someone suck the life out of you was totally no big deal. Totally.

"You were wondering what?" Quinn prodded.

Rachel shook off her fears. She was being ridiculous. The biting would be inevitable and the sooner she got it over with, the sooner she could be with her friends. She might as well get it over with. "No, I demand you feed off me right now," she said resolutely, and regretted it almost instantly when she saw a foreign emotion slip into Quinn's features. She almost looked hurt. But then she was standing, so Rachel couldn't assess the damage that had been done.

"I will have to decline," Quinn said, turning away to the edge of the roof so she could overlook the almost empty parking lot. "You don't know what you're asking for."

"I may not know the finer points of—of _it_, but I do know it _will_ happen and that I want to go back to my friends!" she exclaimed, more so out of the habit to never back down from an argument than anything else.

"You should know three things right now." Quinn turned around, and the fire in her eyes almost startled Rachel. "One," she started walking around the fire towards the smaller woman. "I will not drain you dry in three consecutive days just so you can return to your so-called friends."

Rachel made to protest how Quinn called her friends fake, but was held back by a passionate 'stop' gesture. The blonde towered over her and she had to crane her neck to see her face.

"Two; It's not a simple matter of _just biting_. It will be amongst the most intense experiences you've ever had in your life. I will be holding you while you will experience foreign emotions – maybe even mine – and driven near unconsciousness as I suck on a gash in your neck, hoping I will be able to stop before the pounding of your heart gives out." Quinn licked her lips as her eyes dropped down to Rachel's neck, and Rachel was keenly aware of the warmth in her face. Adding the intense look, she shuddered.

"Three." Quinn exhaled, blinked away her intense stare, and passed a hand over her face. "Despite your moments, I still kinda like you and would really like to avoid killing you," she admitted softly. "Which is why I'm only telling you this. It physically hurts not to comply when you tell me to bite you, so if you ask me again, I don't think I'll be able to stop myself." She lowered her hand and looked down at Rachel pleadingly.

Rachel turned her eyes from intense hazel to the crackling fire, allowing the words to sink in before she made her decision.

* * *

><p><strong>Soy espalda! [age old wordplay].**

**Reviews. I have no words. I love you like I love my chocolate. I mean. There's so much, I can only respond to those who pose questions!**

**If you want to follow my progress on the story, follow me on twitter: plushpandas. **

**Esuedros; **Quinn would become a Turnonedoss. If you catch my drift. But I'm glad you like everything ;D  
><strong>Less than 13; <strong>Omg, a House follower! *nostalgia* Vampires own my life, okay? I was fascinated by them before they became mainstream! Also, LOL. The title refers to: A) Quinn needing to feed (or otherwise die even more). B) Zombies needing to feed and constantly posing a threat (maybe Eat and Die would've been more appropriate). C) Rachel needing to survive by eating. Quinn. What?  
><strong>Natalie5432121; <strong>Even though you haven't posed a question, I'm going to acknowledge your existence anyway, because your review owned my mind. I'm very glad you liked it that much. Thanks so much for the eloquent feedback. It means a lot to me :)

**Special anonymous guest star in my author's note: "HULABLAHHH."**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

When Rachel next opened her eyes she was standing in the middle of endless grassy hills. The sun was bright, the sky was blue, and a breeze swept over the lush greenery, cooling her heated skin. It was a perfect day in this somehow treeless utopia, but all Rachel could do was throw her head back in exasperation, her hands automatically finding their way onto her hips. Her eyes found the aesthetically pleasing sky, and she asked, "Really?"

"Yeah," a familiar voice said from behind her.

Rachel almost jumped out of her skin, whirling around to face the owner of said voice. "Quinn!" She took a breath, fully intending to give her a piece of her mind because she had been so obviously kidnapped and brought here by the vampire, until she noted that Quinn's hair was long.

Like, really long.

And she was pretty sure Quinn hadn't been wearing a blue sundress when they were roasting marshmallows.

The look on her face must've spoken volumes, because then Quinn spoke softly. "You're in your mind."

"Well, that's funny, because I was about to say quite the opposite." It was the stress. She couldn't help it. That, and spending time with Quinn gave her feelings, and the only way she could express them was via banter.

Quinn laughed, soft and almost angelic, before shaking her head.

Rachel's thought process momentarily derailed at how earthly and ethereal Quinn looked at the same time, but managed to shake that off once the full weight of her thoughts hit her. "Oh God, I'm dead, aren't I?" She sighed. "You bit me, went crazy, and now I'm in," she gave the endless grasslands an onceover, "heaven, I hope."

"Are you always this hard headed?" Quinn smiled. "I'm trying to tell you that I gave you this memory so you wouldn't be at a loss when you wake up."

Rachel blinked. "So, what, I'm remembering this place via…" Her brain did a little overtime, and her brows knitted together with the effort. "What?"

"Blood," she answered. "Being a vampire is still largely a mystical occurrence and blood stands at the centre of it. You've personified the knowledge I tried giving to you in order to absorb it better. You're dreaming now."

Rachel stared at the woman for a moment. "So that makes you my sanity fail safe?"

Quinn shrugged her answer this time.

"Well, okay then, I suppose it's _much better_ to know that I'm _borderline_ insane instead of straight up hearing and seeing things!" Sarcasm dripped off her statement, but the blonde didn't respond in her usual light-hearted matter, instead tilting her head in a questioning fashion. Rachel took a calming breath. "Right. So I just ask you a bunch of questions?"

"Yes." Quinn nodded, easy smile in place and hair flowing in the breeze. "However you like is fine."

The statement had been neutral, matter-of-fact even, but it opened a floodgate of possibilities in Rachel's mind that she just could not seem to push back. She looked up at the glaring sun and felt its heat. This dream—knowledge—memory—_whatever_ was insanely real. She dropped her eyes back to Quinn. "And we're alone." She took a hesitant step forwards. "In my mind." Brown eyes held a mischievous glimmer. "Where no one will ever know what happened?"

Imaginary Quinn immediately caught on, tilting her head down and smiling coyly. "This isn't what you should be using this for," she chastised in a breathy whisper. Rachel wanted to listen, she really did, but then the blonde was closing the distance between them and that totally translated to consent so what was she listening to again?

"No," she agreed easily. Her hand rose almost of its own accord, allowing fingers to trace down the light blue fabric that covered Quinn's stomach. Both sets of eyes dropped to follow the movement. The skin underneath was surprisingly warm, which alerted her to how Imaginary Quinn was also living and breathing. There was chemistry. There was always energy crackling between them, and it got on her nerves and drove her to breaking point. "This is _better_."

Rachel grasped the fabric beneath her fingers and pulled Quinn in, crashing their lips together. Except they didn't really crash. They melded together like it was all familiar territory. Like pieces of a puzzle sinking into each other, she thought begrudgingly. Rachel would kiss her upper lip and Quinn eased into it so she could nip at Rachel's lower one. Rachel would then trail her tongue along smooth lips to ask for permission to enter, except Quinn was already meeting her halfway. Tongues slid together easily and it was pleasing because it was warm and relaxed, but there was something about the way Quinn complied to her every move before she was even conscience of it that bothered her. It was almost like… like…

"Kissing yourself?" Quinn finished her thought for her after she'd pulled back. Her eyes were slightly darker and she was breathing a little heavier, just like Rachel imagined.

Rachel huffed, not really doing anything about their close proximity, because this Imaginary Quinn didn't hold the same presence as the real one. "Figures you would annoy me even in my dreams."

Quinn arched an eyebrow at her comment. They both knew better than that. "You find it charming." The certainty behind that statement almost made Rachel cringe.

She folded her arms, an unmistakeable pink tinge in her cheeks. "Just show me what I've missed."

"As you wish." Quinn smiled, and darkness started to drip into the world. The sunny sky turned dark and filled with stars – as it had been in the last of Rachel's memoires – and the grass underneath their feet died away, the soil hardening until it formed gravel. They were standing in the middle of the roof, with time-frozen replicas of themselves near the edge a little distance away.

As the details started to form, Rachel nodded her approval at the dramatics of the scene change.

Imaginary Quinn's smile widened at this. "I knew you'd like it."

"You need to stop doing that," Rachel said, turning to the woman with a pointed look.

"But I'm not flaunting my feminine prowess," Imaginary Quinn countered, smile turning smug.

Rachel shot her a glare. "You are not Quinn, so you do not get to rile me up. You are my imagination, Imaginary Quinn. IQ, if you prefer." She smiled at the clever nickname, but her pride fell away just as fast as she vaguely waved her hand to indicate the blonde. "And I was referring to how you should stop _channelling me_ and start telling me things I don't know about." She dropped her hand and looked at a point in the horizon, chin held high. "Besides, there's nothing wrong with a little prowess," she muttered mainly to herself.

IQ tilted her head in a sideward nod. "Fair enough," she acquiesced, and walked over to the familiar scene. Rachel followed behind, overcome with the biggest sense of déjà-vu ever. Once they were standing in front of their actual memory selves – this was going to get confusing real soon – it stopped being a déjà-vu all together and became a flat out memory.

She remembered coming to the decision that Quinn should feed off her for all the reasons that made her ask for it in the first place, and telling her just that.

"_You should do it."_

Rachel jumped at the sound of her own voice, becoming slightly weirded out at seeing the resolution in her own eyes as they looked up at Quinn.

"This is my memory as well," IQ added, reading her thoughts. In the meanwhile, the scene continued on. "You've combined both points of view. Very nicely done."

_Quinn sucked in a breath – one that Rachel somehow knew she didn't need but did help to calm her down – and proceeded to instruct her to sit in the least awkward position, which just so happened to be in her lap. _

Rachel looked on, feeling every awkward move and exchange while seeing it play out.

_She was sitting sideways on Quinn's lap now, heart aflutter with nerves, as the vampire positioned her hands on her. One of them ended up resting on her hip and the other proceeded to remove the long, dark hair from her shoulder. It was the strangest thing to be sitting so casually, yet so intimately across her. She could feel the cold of her flesh graze her neck and seep through her jeans, creating gooseflesh in the strangest of places. She also hadn't known that she found Quinn's lack of breathing disconcerting until she was close enough to notice its absence._

"Where did Quinn's feelings go?" Rachel asked, unable to tear her eyes away from themselves. It was one thing to know she was smitten with the blonde, another all together to see the admiring look on her own face. They looked really, really good together; dusky skin and dark hair contrasting against pale white and blonde. But where she was first assured and enlightened by Quinn's perspective, the sudden lack of her emotions in the picture almost formed a gaping hole in the entire occurrence.

"Because I don't want you to know," IQ answered. Rachel glanced over, doing a double take at what she saw. IQ was now an exact replica of vampire Quinn.

"Okay, pause. This is confusing." Rachel held up a hand, the memory pausing in the background with both women looking at each other inappropriately. "Either you change back right now or you make yourself distinct enough for me to not start enjoying fantastical escapades with two Quinn's."

IQ passed her teeth over her lower lip in a very un-real-Quinn flirty kind of way before Rachel's vision blurred enough for the blonde's sudden change in clothes not to be too strange. "Better?" IQ asked, now wearing jeans and a black t-shirt that sported a giant, bold, white 'IQ' on the front. Rachel squinted. And oh, her hair was pink.

Huh.

"Now what don't you want me to know?" Rachel asked impatiently. Her eyes trailed back to the pair on the ground, really wanting to get back to what looked to become an impromptu make out session. She definitely needed to remember that.

"I have no idea. I'm you." IQ shrugged, half-heartedly watching themselves. "Judging from my look, I'd say I'm either constipated or really holding back for you." Her eyes sparkled with mischievousness as she grinned. "I have the biggest crush on you."

Rachel's eyes shot to IQ so fast, she might've contracted mental whiplash. "_What?"_

IQ met her eyes, impish smile still in place. "That's what you're constantly assuming. I'm just voicing your thoughts."

Rachel palmed her face, feeling a headache coming on, which was strange, because was it even possible to get a headache in a dream? This was so confusing. "Ugh. Remind me to thank you when I wake up. Like, really." With that sarcastic remark, she whirled back to the pair on the ground. "Let's get this over with."

"_I'm sorry for this," Quinn confessed quietly. "If I could go without, I would, but I need it to survive."_

_Rachel felt her heart warm, the admission only furthering her resolve. "I understand," she said nervously, nodding her head once in resolution. "In this day and age we cannot permit the luxury of choice."_

_Quinn nodded slowly, eyes focusing on her neck with an intensity that would've made Rachel squirm if she hadn't been sitting in the blonde's lap. "This will hurt, but you won't care." She leaned in carefully, the lack of breath making it hard for Rachel to estimate the distance left between them. If she wasn't about to be bitten, she'd probably laugh off the nerves she was currently experiencing. "I won't jump you. You'll know when I'll do it."_

_Rachel suspected that there was some serious vampire mojo involved, because those ten simple words immediately put her at ease. She could finally exhale now that her chest wasn't constricted with anxiety._

_Though they were some serious spot on words as well, because if she was honest, the not knowing when the life was about to be sucked out of her greatly amplified the fear._

_She jumped at the feel of chilly lips touching her neck tenderly, half expecting Quinn to immediately sink her teeth into her fragile neck. And for a moment all she could think about was blinding pain and blood and chunks of flesh and ripping, but those lips simply remained there, touching._

Rachel snorted suddenly as she caught a glimpse of Quinn from her third person perspective. The blonde was eying the sky awkwardly, mouth to her neck, while she presumably waited for the moment that she relaxed enough. At IQ's questioning glance, she covered her mouth with a hand and tried to school her face into a serious expression.

_Rachel stayed quiet. Very quiet. She became aware of the hand between her shoulder blades and the other on her hip. It was actually becoming slightly awkward now that nothing was happening. It was kind of like Quinn was pressing a very long kiss to her—_

_She gasped._

_Quinn inhaled deeply, pressing her nose into Rachel's neck and opening her mouth to allow sharp teeth to brush against her skin. It was cold and wet and soft and sharp and Rachel hoped that Quinn would give her another moment; a moment to allow her to adjust to the point that she could once again rationalize it or, hell, even make fun of it, but then Quinn flexed her jaw and a sharp pain shot down her neck._

_The sting radiated down all the way to the tips of her fingers, pressing against her joints as it went. It was in no way the gentle, lukewarm tingling she experienced when Quinn had fixed her leg, now almost violent in its intensity. _

_Just when Rachel was questioning what in God's name Quinn was talking about when she said that she wouldn't care about the pain – it was really hard to notice anything else right now – Quinn moaned. Normally, when she was suffering this much subtle pain, she wouldn't have cared. Except now she did. She really, really did. Quinn rumbled in pleasure and with it, released a euphoria within Rachel that allowed her to notice that the blonde was holding her while sucking almost carefully at her wounded neck._

_Her every nerve was buzzing with life. _

_Rachel hadn't felt this good in Forever. And Forever was a very long time, especially since she still had so long to go. A long time filled with gore and death. If it could get even better, then by God, it was going to get better. But Quinn was being too gentle. Rachel knew instinctually that it was possible – it had to be – if only Quinn wasn't so gentle. "Harder," she urged, breathless. When Quinn didn't comply, she found the strength in her arms to tangle her hands in blonde hair and push her in closer. "Do it." _

"That is _not_ how it went!" Rachel sputtered in protest, wildly gesturing at the scene. Denying it was useless, but she did so anyway. Her face needed saving.

IQ was flat out laughing. "I—I—it's—" She doubled over and continued laughing, coughing something out that sounded suspiciously like 'mind porn.'

Rachel covered up her face with her hands, embarrassed beyond words, even though the only people who were around to witness it were herself, herself, and Quinn. Eventually, after a few steadying breaths, she looked on through her fingers.

_Quinn growled lowly at the insistence, perhaps in warning, as she tried to shake off the hands at her neck by rolling her shoulders. But Rachel kept urging her on, and there was only so much she could take before she caved in._

_Rachel found herself on the ground in the next moment, Quinn's mouth still attached to her neck as she hovered over her. Immediately missing their previous closeness, she pulled the blonde into an even more intimate embrace, allowing Quinn to rest on top of her between her legs. Another rumble resounded against her sensitive skin, followed by a more vicious bite that sent Rachel over some edge she wasn't even aware of._

"Trust me that I'm talking for Quinn and not for you when I say the following," IQ began, sending Rachel a look. Rachel tore her eyes from the gayest scene she ever witnessed in her life – this went _way_ past homoerotic and straight into unicorns and rainbows – to look at IQ. "Your better judgement is nonexistent and I can't believe I ever thought your survival instincts were good."

Rachel whimpered at the sound of her own groan, and dropped her hands from her reddened face. "Give me a break, okay? You're like… like… like the cure for cancer!"

"I could've killed you!" IQ protested, looking genuinely upset.

"But you haven't!" She knew she was dishing out the worst comebacks ever, but really, she had no idea what came over her. Quinn just kept sweeping her off her feet.

IQ folded her arms in displeasure and focused her glare on the scene before them.

_After one final languorous lick to the gash, Quinn finally pulled back. Her face screamed unadulterated satisfaction as her tongue ran across bloodied lips. The look evaporated when she caught sight of an unconscious Rachel, however, and an overwhelming urge to panic emerged. Her ears immediately perked up, hoping to catch something of a heartbeat. It was barely there. "Rachel, wake up," she tried, stirring her. "Rachel!"_

_With no immediate reaction, Quinn became anxious. Of course she would go too far when feeding on an eager participant after that long. "Shit, shit, shit," she muttered, quickly deciding on a course of action. She raised her left wrist to her mouth and bit down, then pressed the bleeding limb to Rachel's mouth. "Come on, Rachel, drink!"_

Rachel looked on with a grimace so comical, she put Finn to shame.

_And of course, Rachel would turn away from the one thing that could keep her from the brink of death. "I'm going to kick your ass so hard when you wake up," Quinn threatened harshly. After another failed attempt, she removed her wrist and licked at her own wound. It immediately closed up, but she was far from paying any attention to it. She bit into her lower lip with impressive fangs, lowering herself to the other woman._

"Oh my God, she's not going to—"

_Quinn pressed a bloody kiss to Rachel's lips, and, thankfully, she did respond to that._

"She did," Rachel squeaked.

"And that's how you ended up having a lucid dream, high on my blood," IQ said, not entirely pleased.

"_That's_ what the blood was for?" she asked, mortified.

"Well, it sure as hell wasn't so you could make out with me." The pinkette huffed, still looking away.

Rachel grabbed for IQ's arm and held it tightly, shooting a pleading look up at her. "I have to wake up. I have to apologize to the real Quinn! Oh my God, I almost got her to kill me, she'll be so mad—"

Rachel's eyes fluttered open. There were familiar iron bars in front of her and a small room beyond that. She was back on the bed in the security room. She was also surrounded by something incredibly warm. It almost felt like an electronically heated blanket, except it moved with every breath it took. Also, she was pretty sure blankets didn't have arms and were even less likely to spoon you. Did she mention she was hot yet? "Too warm," she mumbled, stirring slightly.

"You're too cold," Quinn answered, mouth next to her ear. She squeezed the protest out of Rachel, keeping her in the warm embrace.

An idea hit Rachel like a ton of bricks. "Quinn?"

"Yeah?"

"Am I a vampire now?"

* * *

><p><strong>DUNDUNDUNNNN.<strong>

**IQ is supposed to so OOC it hurts. Rachel and Quinn are just OOC because it's an AU and I don't care, ahaha~**

**Also, I feel the need to emphasise that reviews do really help, even if I don't answer or am late updating and whatnot. And yes, I will say this every chapter. Deal with it.**

**Much love,  
><strong>**Plush**

**Roronoa Robin; **I didn't have any plans to kill anyone off—oh, no, wait, I'm lying. Someone's going to die ;D And LOL, it's good to hear I keep dragging you into fandoms. My writing is good for something xD  
><strong>TopHatGirl;<strong> So violent! Poor Quinn xD  
><strong>Soulfullove; <strong>Thank you for the compliment ;D And to answer your question, I have no idea. I know the main plot and the three ways it can end, but I haven't thought about putting in any other supernatural beings. Interesting idea though.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Quinn."

Nothing.

"Quinn Fabray!" Rachel called again as she hurried to catch up with the blonde.

Quinn had taken care of her in silence, curtly explained their plan for the day, and then continued to execute it. Their plan just so happened to consist of finding Rachel's _friends_ – Quinn had almost choked on the words as if it physically hurt her to say it, and it bothered Rachel to no end – so they were on their way to the rooftop, but Quinn was taking the stairs two at the time and Rachel was having trouble keeping up with her.

"While I do understand your reasons for giving me the silent treatment, it is entirely unnecessary. You and I have already tagteamed me into realizing that it was, in fact, the worst idea in human history—actually, I take that back. I think the moron who enabled zombies had the worst idea in human history. It may have been the second worst idea." Quinn turned her head slightly at the comment, and Rachel thought she had won over her attention, but she kept on stomping up the stairs. How much stairs were there in this place, anyway? With the pace Quinn was setting, they should've been at the roof two minutes ago.

"I digress, however," Rachel continued. "I have apologized appropriately, and do I need to add that I was sincere in the aforementioned apology? Or that you made it perfectly clear why I was being 'an idiot with little to no good judgement,' as you so eloquently put it?" When Quinn didn't respond, she took in some much needed air and ran to catch up with her travelling partner. Thankfully, they were already at the last of the stairs. Rachel winced as Quinn all but kicked open the door to the roof, but didn't deter.

"Quinn?" she tried again, squinting her eyes through the bright sunlight. She had called her name so often by now, it stopped sounding like a name altogether. It was more of a random collection of letters. Quinn, Quinn, Quinn.

The vampire simply marched onto the roof with clear intent in her eyes.

Rachel lost it.

"Damnit Quinn! Stop ignoring me!" She stomped her foot, disrupting the gravel. She hated when she stomped her foot. She hated Quinn for ruffling her feathers enough to make her do it. "If you do not accept my blatant apology, at least accept my existence and consequent failure! I know what I did was wrong."

Quinn whirled around so fast, she almost didn't see it happening. "You can't even _begin_ to grasp how wrong it was," she growled, her eyes flashing with dangerous clarity.

It startled Rachel, but it didn't startle her more than the complete 180 Quinn's behaviour had done since that morning. They went from spooning and talking quietly to _this_ in the course of an hour, and it was frustrating Rachel beyond belief. "Then make me understand!" She completely forwent all her instincts and stepped into the vampire's personal space instead.

"Would you tell me your most shameful secret?"

"What? What does that have to do with anything?" Rachel reared back slightly at the turn in their conversation, but answered at the insistence of Quinn's glare. "No. No, I wouldn't. While I'm sure you wouldn't tell anyone, because let's face it, there's no one—"

"Tell me your most shameful secret," Quinn ordered. She hadn't lost the sharper edges of her anger, she even seemed to be bristling more than before, but, to Rachel, she oozed familiarity and safety and Rachel was simply _enamoured_. She needed to please Quinn. Telling her the secret would please her. She needed to tell her.

"Once, I was caught—"

She would've told her, except a pale hand was suddenly covering her mouth. That meant Quinn didn't want to hear it after all, right? Quinn was already looking angry. She better not finish her story then. It would displease Quinn.

Rachel frowned at the thoughts that were running through her mind. It was like her free will was left bound and gagged in the back room while these foreign thoughts bowled over her rationality and left no room for discussion. The hand pulled away from her mouth. "What the _heck _was that?"

"Did it arouse you when I fed from you?" she asked, looking impatient to make her point.

"Yes." Rachel's eyes widened at her answer, but Quinn was relentless.

"Do you want me to do it again?"

She shook her head wildly from left to right. "Yes."

"Do you want me to touch you next time?"

"God, yes—oh sweet Mother— _stop asking me these things_!" she all but shrieked, covering her face in embarrassment.

"Can you resist anything I ask of you?" Finally, at the cost of Rachel's pride, Quinn's anger seemed to dissipate somewhat. The general air of being annoyed never quite exited the stage, however.

"No." She dropped her hands and narrowed her eyes at the blonde. "I hate you so much."

Quinn smirked at that. "Do you hate me?"

"Yes," she answered steadfastly. Once she realized that she finally gave an answer that didn't make her want to jump off a cliff, she stood proud and raised an eyebrow at Quinn in a cocky show of superiority.

Quinn's grin widened until her teeth showed, and suddenly, Rachel was scared. "Do you really?"

"No." Rachel deflated visibly at the answer she gave. She took so much pride in pretending to be able to resist the woman's charms, and now her secret was revealed. In hindsight, she'd rather have told her the embarrassing story.

After a moment of silence, Quinn urged her gently, "Come on." She took pity on her, slipping her hand in Rachel's. Her skin felt warm and alive for a change. "We have a long way to go before we find your friends."

"But you didn't make me into a vampire," Rachel squeaked dejectedly, looking up at the other woman with big, vulnerable eyes. "How is this possible?"

"There's a piece of me inside you now," Quinn explained, leading the way to the edge. "Don't ask me how it works, because I have no idea."

Rachel sighed and leaned against the blonde, resting her chin on her shoulder, Quinn's arm resting snugly between their bodies. She didn't realize how close they were standing until questioning hazel eyes settled on her. It took a moment before she remembered what she wanted to ask. "Are there any other surprises I should look out for?"

"You'll be slightly sharper, faster, stronger," she said softly, and Rachel was taken off guard by the effortless intimate interaction they managed to slip back into. She grinned. "Maybe you'll smell one coming next time."

Rachel buried her face into the woman's neck as she half-heartedly tried to mask her chuckle.

* * *

><p>It took some time before Rachel had gathered enough courage to ask a burning question of hers. It wasn't so much that she was afraid of Quinn, quite the opposite was true, but she just couldn't bring herself to open her mouth while the vampire kept scaling buildings and pulled off acrobatics that had Rachel clinging on for dear life.<p>

Seriously, it was scary. It was probably for this reason that Quinn had changed back into some jeans and a simple shirt, but it was like Quinn purposely executed the most frightening stunts to get them from A to B. Once, she even jumped straight into a wall at full speed, just to push off against it and gain higher ground. How she managed to do it with her arms full would forever impress Rachel, but at that moment she was more concerned with the years she had lost of her life due to the intense ride.

When Quinn offered her an opportunity, she clung to it.

She skidded to a stop on one of the higher buildings around. "Do you want to—"

"_Please_, yes!" Rachel didn't care what she was going to ask. She'd probably jump at the opportunity if Quinn had asked her to jump off the building, anyway.

Quinn outright laughed, putting down the smaller woman, who wobbled slightly before finding her balance. "Too adventurous a route?" she asked, mirth clear as day.

Rachel scoffed, bending forwards to rest her hand on her knees. "You went straight past adventurous and right into suicidal when you landed on that tiny balcony."

"Sorry," she apologized half-heartedly, patting her back in an almost mocking display of comfort.

Rachel straightened up with a sigh, shooting Quinn an inquisitive look. It was time to ask her question. "Are you still angry with me?"

"Why do you ask?" She took off her backpack and kneeled down to rummage around in it properly. Once she looked up, she took notice of the sceptical look on Rachel's face and her folded arms. "Fine," she relented, presenting the brunette with an energy bar. "Yes, I was. I still haven't forgiven you, but I figure I've put you through enough to get my point across."

Rachel took the energy bar, checked the date, realized she didn't know what the date was to begin with, and proceeded to peel off the wrapper. It was strange to be cared for and still have someone be annoyed with you. Usually, with your life depending on others, annoyance spelled out certain doom and certainly not a friendly picnic. "Simply out of curiosity, why haven't you forgiven me?"

"The near death experience and the loss of your free will for one, and—and then there's—" Quinn appeared to realize what she was about to say, and looked away, sucking on her teeth in a clear show of discomfort.

"_And?_" Rachel urged, taking a bite from the bar.

Quinn stood up and started to pace, of all things. "And there's the possibility that, y'know—it may or may not be that—at a certain time, you may—" She struggled to find her words, frowning with discontentment.

Rachel rolled her eyes at Quinn's obvious discomfort. They were in a post apocalyptic world where they could die at any moment without anyone caring and the vampire chose to worry about proper wording? She swallowed her bite before speaking. "Throw you down and break you like a pony?" she offered lightly, receiving a reaction that made her want to thank Santana for her colourful influences.

Quinn stopped all movement and stared, mouth slightly agape. Then, in a show of superior vampire prowess, she stared some more.

"So it's true," Rachel confirmed, nodding to herself in self-satisfaction. It would actually explain why her attraction to the vampire had grown exponentially. Then again, that may have been a natural development. Either way, she didn't really care. What she did care about was that she could find relief in this hardass zombie-eats-man world.

"No, no, no, no," Quinn said, holding up her hands as if to physically stop Rachel's thought process.

She snapped out of her thoughts. "What?"

"You have this look on your face as if you just realized something, and considering the current subject of discussion, I'm forbidding you to act on whatever you just thought of."

"Damn you," Rachel huffed, inexplicably inclined to follow Quinn's suggestion. Instead of going down that path, however, her mind went back to the previous topic at hand as she finished off the bar. Quinn didn't forgive her because she would be artificially attracted to her, which either meant that Quinn wasn't attracted to her at all or that she was and didn't want their relationship to be founded on a lie. There were several points that convinced Rachel she was, in fact, attracted to her. The most pronounced argument being the impromptu spooning. God, she loved the spooning.

Whoa.

Down, vampire blood induced hormones, _down_.

"You're scaring me," Quinn said, looking Rachel up and down through narrowed, suspicious eyes. "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing," Rachel dismissed in an entirely unconvincing tone. She then did what she would've never done in the living, functioning world; she threw the plastic wrapper over her shoulder. "It's just that, y'know, you're in love with me," she said airily.

"I'm—_what_?" Her eyes widened momentarily, but she appeared more caught off guard than nervous. "How do you even—_what_?"

"Quinncoherent?"

"Berrickety?" Quinn shot back.

"Rickety?" Rachel repeated. "Are you implying that my statement is rickety?" She shook her head. "I digress." She straightened herself for her oncoming argument, while Quinn looked on cautiously. It almost made her feel like some dangerous animal that was about to strike. "Perhaps love is too strong a word. We both know we have had feelings for each other since the beginning. And while dancing around those feelings had been entirely appropriate a decade ago, I think that, despite in whatever beginning stage our shared sentiments are, we should consider that our lives may be forfeited at any moment and that you should just kiss me."

Quinn's only response was to blink.

The non-response made her slightly uneasy, but she kept her head held high. "What say you?"

"I say… I can't believe that made sense," Quinn said, staring into thin air as she tried to find a fault in the woman's logic. Rachel took this as permission and approached her, fully intent on deflowering those lips that she had literally dreamt about, but a gentle hand to her sternum stopped her. "Does this logic of yours also include what happens if we part ways? Or if we put emotions before rationality?"

Rachel managed to pull off frowning and pouting at the same time. "I'm beginning to suspect that you're a pessimist," she muttered, then, with more confidence, continued, "I suppose that it all comes down to whether or not you believe in it being better to have loved or not at all. Will you look back in regret or carry around bittersweet memories? And to answer your concerns; you're entirely aware of the fact that emotions can cloud your judgement, hence you will include that factor in your decision-making and avoid disaster."

Quinn smiled as she shook her head in incredulity. "I've created a monster."

"A lovable monster that you would like to kiss," Rachel beamed proudly.

"Yes, a lovable monster," she agreed with a smile, slipping her hand from Rachel's sternum to wrap around her neck. Rachel's smile didn't falter as fingers tangled in her hair at the base of her neck. If anything, it got brighter. She didn't know whether to be happier with the massaging motion or how Quinn was leaning down to honest to God kiss her. So she closed her eyes and allowed her to enjoy everything combined, and when those lips met hers, it was _brilliant_.

The hand fell away from her neck. "Well, now that that's over—"

"Quinn Fabray, you did not just peck me under the guise of a kiss!" Rachel opened her eyes to glare at the blonde.

"Hey, last I checked, a peck is also a kiss." Quinn tried her hardest to keep her laughter under control as she gathered her backpack again. "Besides, it's not like you specified what kind of kiss you wanted."

"A proper kiss! One that lasts approximately 2 minutes and allows tongue." She folded her arms and simply pouted as she continued to glare at the amused blonde. "I can't believe how much I hate you right now."

"Do you really?"

"No!" she said vehemently. "Gah!" She threw her hands up in frustration and stomped over to the edge of the roof. There was laughter behind her before arms encircled her waist, pulling her close to an unexpectedly warm body.

"You make it sound like I'll never kiss you again," Quinn said, amusement clear in her voice. Rachel huffed in reply. "Don't worry so much, Rickety, I have every intention to kiss you good and silly once we're in our next safe house." This time, the words were spoken directly against her ear, making her skin prickle all over. Rachel couldn't help but swallow away the images that those words created in her mind as well. It made sense though. Out here, they were vulnerable.

"Do you promise?"

Quinn smiled against her ear. "Of course."

"Okay then!" Rachel twirled out of her grip to actively look over the city. "We better start searching for a safe house!"

"Don't you mean your friends?"

"And my friends!"

* * *

><p><strong>Well, I can safely say that this chapter had significantly more action and less dialogue in my head. I dub this chapter: The time Quinn broke Rachel. Just not like a pony, lmao. I can't believe I wrote that in there.<strong>

**There are also legitimate reasons for why this chapter is so late.**

**In reply to ALL my reviewers: Thanks for the reviews that keep dripping in, even though this update took like a decade. They kept reminding me I forgot about something :P**

**Love,****Plush**

**Yourkat; **Well, if that's how your review looks on your phone, I can't wait to find out what it looks like when you have a proper keyboard at your disposal! I'm glad you like it! But what's this about being rec'd? I think I feel shamelessly popular right now, hahaha.  
><strong>LivinginBedlam; <strong>Omg, another House follower! ;D How have you been? Good times, good times. I won't tell you I'm glad you're enjoying the things I've written, because I think you already know xD  
><strong>Anonymous; <strong>I tried not to take a decade, but I failed. Miserably xD  
><strong>Moment-4-Life; <strong>I guess this chapter answers your question, doesn't it?

**If I forgot to reply (of if you want me to stop replying), just say so!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Where are we going? I thought we were heading East," Rachel asked when they suddenly took a sharp right. To be honest, she was surprised she caught the change in direction at all, because being in Quinn's arms was distracting the hell out of her. The look of concentration and her display of unnatural athleticism had Rachel swooning to an inch of her life.

Quinn eased into a walk once they landed on a relatively low, tiled roof. For once, Rachel was afraid that the blonde would lose balance and fall. "There's a safe house nearby and we only have a few hours of sunlight left." She looked down at Rachel, and Rachel had never wished more that Quinn would just watch where she was going as a tile rattled with dangerous intention. "Why were you heading East? The ocean?"

Rachel tightened her grip on Quinn's neck. She could trust Quinn. She could totally trust Quinn. "Um, no. We encountered a radio station once, and, despite how the cliché makes me want to poke my own eyes out, the hardware had been honed in on a transmission about a city, Salvation."

"The one with the tamed zombies?" Quinn asked sceptically. "I'm going to jump down here."

Since Rachel had already been holding on for dear life, she only nodded before wind rushed by them. She had figured out very fast that it was easiest to travel like this by concentrating on Quinn, so that's what she did until they were walking down a street and she was put down. "You've heard the transmission?"

Quinn nodded solemnly. "I've been there."

Rachel gasped dramatically, and fisted the collar of Quinn's shirt to draw her attention. "So you can take us there? What's it like? Is it true?"

Quinn wasn't looking at her though, nor was she answering, and it unsettled her how she was squinting at something in the distance. And then she was inhaling deeply, so Rachel backed off. "There's untainted rot in the air," she muttered, reaching back and handing over her trusty aluminium baseball bat to the smaller woman.

"Someone died of natural causes?" Rachel held the bat with two hands, slightly lowered but ready to strike. At the answering nod, she became worried. These days, people didn't die of natural causes. They were murdered for their supplies. When Quinn produced an automatic handgun from her backpack, Rachel barely managed to dampen her voice. "You have a _gun_? You've been making me practise with this infernal bat, and you have a _gun_?"

"Guns are loud," she answered in a whisper, making her way down the barren, filthy street. It was one of the more intact streets Rachel had seen, with apartment buildings no higher that five stories, clean cut pavement and almost no cars that hardly allowed any hiding places. Everything considered, she wouldn't have been surprised if the houses had been brand new before the outbreak. If it hadn't been for Quinn's warning, she may have felt safer than usual. "Kind of like you," Quinn said with a pointed look.

Rachel huffed indignantly, but kept her mouth shut as she followed her companion. Quinn was doing her bloodhound impression again, sniffing the air subtly as she glanced around like they were walking through a minefield – which she really, _really _hoped was not the case. It got her on edge, making her twice as aware of their surroundings. After what seemed like centuries to Rachel's adrenaline-addled mind, they reached some kind of single story facility. It was square, dull, and almost sterile white, but what stood out the most was the opened iron door and the graffiti on said building: 'YOU'VE BEEN RAIDED.'

"Shit," Quinn cursed, practically running into the building.

But Rachel couldn't be happier, and her silly grin showed for it. It was Puck's tag. He was always complaining about how horrible it was to find your hideout in an ominous state of disarray, so he considerately left such a message the one time they ran across a similar empty safe house. Thank the God of irony, it was not this place she remembered raiding. But that was beside the point. Puck had been here. Her friends had been here. They were on the right track.

"At least they didn't get into the weapon's locker."

Only when Quinn walked back out with a brooding mood that made Rachel queasy, holding a machete instead of the gun, did she notice the bodies lying in the street. At first glance, she thought it had been trash, like they had encountered a shameful amount of times, but then she noticed how the shapes had limbs. Three lifeless bodies. The first had decomposed beyond recognition, the second was a man well on its way there, but the third was a woman that looked to have fallen very recently. She was relatively big and dark of skin. In fact, she kind of looked like—

"Oh, no." Rachel took a few steps closer, and confirmed that it was indeed Mercedes. She felt such a tiny amount of loss tug at her, she momentarily wondered if she was human at all. All she could think about was how Mercedes had been an addition to their little makeshift army, but not a friend. How Mercedes took the canned peaches for herself and threw the pork and beans in Rachel's direction. How Mercedes shot the zombie that was vaguely running in her direction instead of the one that was practically on top of Rachel. How Mercedes backed up the rants of annoyance directed towards her.

Rachel shook the thoughts off. She had probably been spoiled to death by Quinn, but it still left a nasty aftertaste in her mind.

"Someone you knew?" Quinn asked, her voice soothing some of the chastising thoughts she may have had. Followed by her question was a hand on her lower back, and instinctively, Rachel leaned against the other body, resting her head on a shoulder.

"Yeah," Rachel breathed, and turned her nose into Quinn's shirt, allowing the familiar scent to ease her further. It amazed her how she'd never seen or heard the woman bathe, yet managed to smell like something you could just put in your mouth without worrying where it had been before.

She mentally smacked herself over the head for that last thought.

"I'm sorry," Quinn whispered, wrapping her arm more fully around her. "At least she still smells human. She was shot immediately after being bitten."

Wait.

The thought occurred to both of them at the same time, and Rachel stiffened while Quinn perked up.

If she'd been bitten, where were the zombie corpses?

As if on cue, a tile shattered in the distance, and Rachel snapped to attention as she followed the sound. She barely had a chance to contemplate the sound, because a solid hand had pushed her to the ground. Her elbow and palms burned as they crashed into the road, but that was the last thing on her mind as she immediately got up again, bat held tightly in her hands. Maybe it had been the vampire blood and the adrenaline combined, but she was on her feet so fast, she was just in time to see Quinn being bowled over by a very hefty looking zombie – Rachel noted with some trepidation that it had about the same build as Finn.

A lithe zombie landed right in front of her, a sickening crack resounding as both of its thin legs broke upon impact. And the forceful shove suddenly made sense. If she'd been standing there, she would've been squashed with the momentum it had built. The scent of infected flesh was even more overwhelming than usual, but she hardly had time to contemplate the stench, because a milky eye had focused on her and lanky, barely there hands were grasping for her.

As she stomped down on one wrist – _crack, 5 points – _and accidentally kicked the other arm out of its socket in her hurry to not be grappled – _dismemberment, 15 points_ – she couldn't help but rate the corpse's difficulty level. It had become a habit of hers since the training to ease her mind from the smell and images. Instead or remembering the gruesome details, she'd remember numbers. And this one was pre-incapacitated, and was more bones than skin, barely held together by tendrils of hardened muscle.

She was surprised at the minimum amount of nasty liquids this one produced once she applied Quinn's signature impale-it-through-the-eye-with-a-freaking-bat move – _final death, 30 points_. Apparently, training was good for something.

She graded this one as level two, with a minimum reward of 60 experience points – _record time slaying bonus, 10 points_.

On to the next one.

Two others had huddled together as they scraped something from the asphalt; the large one and one that exceeded in the normalcy of gruesomeness. No others seemed around.

A vicious growl resounded from the pair of undead, and Rachel froze in her spot as realization hit her. _Quinn was in the middle of the scuffle_. Before she could will the movement back into her legs, action had already been taken. The smaller zombie stumbled forwards and was then launched backwards several feet by a well placed kick to the underside of its jaw. She kept the body in her peripheral vision, just in case, but didn't have high hopes for its survival. She almost wished she had a slow-motion close up of that kill.

Quinn finally leapt up from the ground and onto the giant, grappling it by the face. It was a moment later that Rachel winced because Quinn had stuck her hands in the mouth of the wildly flailing charger, holding on to both the upper and lower part to – she assumed – keep it from biting her, yet she was struck dumb once again as the woman ripped the jaw clean from its head. It was Quinn's roar as she proceeded to separate the head from its body, instead of the gurgling groans from the charger, which had the hairs on the back of Rachel's neck raising.

The giant fell onto its knees, and Quinn jumped off before it squashed her under its weight. Rachel was only dimly aware of the zombie that was still lying motionless a distance away, immensely distracted by the sheer power that Quinn's form radiated. Once hazel eyes flickered up to lock on her. What Rachel saw made the courage sink down into her shoes.

The white of her eye had invaded her irises, and together with the jagged cut on her cheek and being sprinkled in a combination of blood and other gore, one of the most terrifying thoughts occurred to Rachel.

Quinn was a ten.

How did she not know she was a ten?

Shit, she was approaching.

For the life of it, Rachel could not assess the situation properly. Quinn was practically sashaying over to her in a show of elegance nowhere near the undead stumble most zombies had adopted. Had Quinn been infected? Did she switch sides? Were the dead, milky eyes some sort of side effect of vamping out? Should she worry about the way those fangs were glaringly obvious between those parted lips?

But then it was too late to undertake any action, because the blonde was standing in front of her. Quinn took the bat from her hands and dropped it next to them on the street, all the while keeping those dead eyes locked on Rachel in an intense stare.

Rachel would've protested, would've _something_, except this was Quinn she was talking about. Quinn, who she's been fooling around with for the last few days in the most innocent sense of the word. Quinn, whom she really, really liked. Quinn, who, despite the fact that their torsos were almost touching, wasn't ripping her head off.

What the heck was going on?

Rachel tried conveying the questions through her eyes, but Quinn simply wasn't listening. She just kept staring and breathing with such a strange interval that it was starting to creep her out—breathing. She was breathing. She only breathed to inhale scents, not because she needed the oxygen. That meant Quinn was still in there.

Locked in such an impasse, Rachel practically jumped when the cut on Quinn's cheek started to heal of its own accord. The process was subtle and smooth, reminding her of a zipper being zipped up, but the unexpected movement had startled her nevertheless. It was then that Quinn's eyes closed in a prolonged blink and the colour returned to her irises. She frowned down at Rachel. "Did you say something?"

Rachel gaped at the woman for a moment, confirming that she had, in fact, said that as if nothing had happened. "You _jerk_!" She pushed Quinn out of her personal space, making her stumble back marginally. "You could have told me you were immune to infection!" she yelled with so much genuine resentment that Quinn actually flinched. Then, for lack of any other places to storm off to, she headed for the safe house.

"Rachel—wait. I didn't think I'd get this sloppy," Quinn said hurriedly.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand jerkanese," she spat back over her shoulder, walking into the building and down the clean, sterile hallway. It was barely lit by the sunlight that streamed through the door, but she could still make out the two doors; one going left, the other going right. She would bet money on the fact that one of them lead to a safe place to stay.

"Where are you even going?"

"Away!" She spun around to turn her fury on Quinn, almost bumping into the other moving body. If Quinn didn't have such amazing reflexes, she was sure they would have run into each other. While she'd been storming off, Quinn had taken off her shirt and was now in the process of wiping off her face with it, leaving her in only a tank top. "Away from your stupid, lying face!" she yelled, gesturing stiffly to emphasise her point.

Quinn looked taken aback. "Lying?"

"Yes, lying!" she repeated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You promised to take care of me, yet you left me out there to think all hope was lost." Her vision started to blur with the tears that gathered in her eyes. "I wouldn't even have been this angry if it weren't for the fact that the words 'oh, by the way, I'm immune to infection' could have prevented me from _dying inside_."

"Oh, Rachel," Quinn sighed, her eyes softening to such an extent that Rachel almost caved. She took the momentary lapse in anger to close in the distance between them and cup her face gently, her wonderfully hazel eyes melting away Rachel's resolve to bat away her attempt at reconciliation.

"Don't you 'oh, Rachel' me," she sobbed, averting her eyes.

"You've become dependent on me," Quinn concluded softly. Rachel would've resisted, would've resisted _so hard_, if it hadn't been for the overwhelming tenderness in that voice. She had no other choice but to succumb.

"You can't just steadily rebuild my hope and then turn around and make me think I'm all alone again," she whispered piteously. She wasn't sure if she'd leaned in or if Quinn had pulled her in, but when those arms enveloped her and her face was pressed safely into the crook of her neck, Rachel could finally breathe in relief.

"I'm sorry."

And Rachel cried.

She cried because Quinn being immune gave her a coronary, but Mercedes' death left her cold. She cried for all the hope she'd lost in these wretched times, only to regain it again. She cried because, goddamn, Quinn smelled so nice, it was interrupting her depressing thoughts.

She chuckled at the thought, gently easing herself away from the embrace to come face to face with a worried Quinn.

"Are you okay?" Quinn asked, narrowing her eyes to judge the situation. Her hands, previously wrapped around Rachel, were now resting on her hips. "You haven't snapped or anything, have you?"

This just made Rachel laugh louder and shake her head. "No. No, I'm still here." She smiled a watery smile as she gingerly wiped away her tears, not quite realizing she wasn't looking at Quinn until the blonde bent down slightly to catch her eyes.

"You're thinking of something again." Quinn searched her eyes with almost inappropriate scrutiny. "Something… nice?" she guessed.

Thoughts of all things Rachel had started to associate with Quinn's scent – summer days, swimming in the lake, picnics, and kissing in the rain – flitted through her mind. Rachel opened her mouth to make a jab at Quinn's apparent lack of mindreading skills, but then thought better of it. Their mouths could be used for so many more useful things. "Oh, just shut up and kiss me."

And that's exactly what she did.

* * *

><p><strong>BAM, COMMERCIAL INTERLUDE.<strong>

**Trolololo—don't kill me. The chapter was getting too long. I'll continue in the next one. ****Also, let me properly thank _Left 4 Dead_ and _Dead Island_ for the zombies.**

**TO ALL MY REVIEWERS; What I'm getting from your comments is that you want them to bone. I've literally been bribed into doing it, so stop hinting towards their blossoming relationship. Gawd! Lmao.**

**Sorry for writing all the replies here, but most of them were anons.**

**Anonymous; **Here, look! Done in half a decade! Happy birthday! ;D (is it sad that a complete stranger's birthday actually motivated me to write this before Friday? I THINK NOT).  
><strong>Yourkat; <strong>I don't know. I may have written it, but apparently, I really like seeing my work quoted. Not sure why. Probably because then I know what you enjoyed specifically ;D And hey, I granted all your wishes!  
><strong>Juliles; <strong>I've planned on taking this story to their friends and beyond, so far. I may accidentally kill them off halfway, though.  
><strong>Parker; <strong>I know, LOL.  
><strong>Niko5290; <strong>The reason I'm writing this :')  
><strong>Carouselhorse;<strong> So does that mean I just suffocated you?  
><strong>S8105; <strong>And now _I'm_ smiling like a moron! x3 I'll give you a tiny hint, though. Notice how Quinn told Rachel to wait while she stormed off?  
><strong>Athyna daughterofposeidon; <strong>Very good question! Yes, you will find out why the world is full of zombies. Just like how you will find out why Quinn is the only vampire they encountered even though vampires are _apparently_ immune.  
><strong>Kirsten Kern; <strong>I would've appreciated it if I could actually understand what you were saying (over the sound of me smacking you down and sticky-ing you) xD  
><strong>Smartblonde317; <strong>They do share a blood bond, but they don't hallucinate like Sookie and Eric. While blood is ~mystical, I have a hard time envisioning _that_ happening. Let's keep it to a supernatural bond and improved physical/mental features.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Kissing Quinn Fabray was amazing.

Granted, Quinn couldn't stand still for more than a minute because there were a bajillion things she needed to take care of before they could retire, but those fifty seconds where she could take those perfect lips between her own made her wish she could uncensor her mind enough to actually think the things her body was whispering to her. And the best thing was that Quinn would return, so eventually, they could kiss _again_.

Holy mother of God, she wanted to kiss her again. She wanted those pliant lips to move against her own, to have those hands grasp at her lower back, and have her own hands tangle in blonde hair. The best thing about kissing Quinn was that it was nothing like kissing herself. IQ may have given her all the right sensations at all the right times, but it was as much hollow as it was perfect. Quinn was deliciously messy in so far that it made Rachel's insides burn while her cooling flesh tempered down the storm that raged in her entire body.

Rachel scrunched up her nose and gave that particular thought a strange look. At least her mind made up for the censoring with colourful metaphors. But as much as she liked thinking about kissing her again, and again, and _again_ – was it warm in here? – she needed to focus. She wasn't a hormonal teenager anymore. It was entirely possible to keep her mind away from reproduction activities.

The safe house was very much safe, but barricaded from the inside. If she missed Quinn knocking, then, well, it would take longer for her to get inside. She had complete faith in Quinn's ability to ward off any unwanted, undead attention, so there was no pressure, just time to fill.

She tapped a hand against her thigh as she looked around the room. It was decorated like a prison; a bed with simple white linens here, a table and a chair there, an impenetrable-looking locker off to the side. Granted, she'd never been in an actual working prison, but the concrete walls and the window weren't of much help either. The window was secured with iron bars and reinforced glass so thick, it almost seemed frosted. The only thing it allowed through was sunlight, but even that was pushing it. It only succeeded in bathing the room in a chilly white light.

Light that was getting less and less brighter. Quinn was taking long. Or maybe she was just impatient?

She made a note to ask Quinn for a watch. Now that she had the luxury of relaxing, time started becoming more important again.

That kiss had been way too short, Rachel thought begrudgingly. Begrudgingly, because nothing seemed to be able to distract her from the topic. It was like trying not to think about presents during Christmas. But that didn't make the kiss any longer.

A frightening thought hit Rachel.

What if the kiss had been short because Quinn didn't _want _to kiss her?

Her brows knitted together as she started to pace the room. On the roof, the shortness of the kiss had been understandable. They were out in the open, after all. They would've been a target for any undead that stumbled upon their path. And sure, it was more practical to scavenge supplies while it was still light out, so Quinn had legitimate reasons to keep cutting their intimate time short. But what if she had imposed her ideas on the woman? If she were imagining the way Quinn treated her? What if Quinn was merely entertaining Rachel's romantic notion so she could have a nice memory to cling to when she was left with her friends?

She came to a stop near the foot of the bed and deposited herself on the fluffy surface, releasing a puff of air.

And would she really mind if Quinn was simply handing her a pleasant memory?

* * *

><p>By the time Quinn returned, the cold white light had turned into a warm orange glow and Rachel decided to adopt an 'oh well' attitude towards the reasons for those short kisses. She wouldn't die whatever the result was. Knowing was better than speculating forever.<p>

She hoped, at least.

"Sorry it took so long, but I had to dispose of those corpses in case they attracted more undead."

As soon as Quinn entered the safe house, Rachel was watching her like a hawk, which was pretty easy considering she had to open the door in the first place. Quinn was avoiding her eyes as she put down her backpack. Whenever Rachel managed to catch a glimpse of hazel, Quinn immediately focused on any action she was undertaking, like walking, or breathing. It didn't give Rachel much hope that Quinn was wearing some kind of thick, black and white striped, knitted sweater. She almost drowned in the soft material, and all Rachel could think of was that she could now touch less of the woman – if she were even allowed in the first place.

"Quinn?"

Quinn stiffened, whirling around in an almost painfully awkward fashion. "Yes?"

Rachel cringed slightly. She didn't want to go through with it, but having experienced the craziest, terrifying thing that day steadied her resolve. Nothing could be worse, right? "Do you even like me?"

Her brows knitted together, most of the nervous energy dissipating. "Where is this coming from?"

"It's just that the kisses we've shared have always been chaste, and now that I've thought about it, I was always the one taking the initiative. If you really find me as irresistible as you keep implying, then _I _should be the one to keep warding off your insanely pushy lips and planning to hot glue your clothes to your body in case you can't control yourself. But now you're wearing an extra barrier! I mean, you might as well wear a chastity belt—_what_ are you doing?"

Quinn slipped out of the sweater, revealing another shirt underneath, all the while smiling in amusement. Definitely amusement, Rachel confirmed mentally. Not, say, intense sexual desire. "I didn't know what size you were, so I took a size larger than necessary." She held up the sweater for Rachel, and the woman reacted unthinkingly, allowing the sweater to be put on her. Quinn ran her hands through her long brown hair to tug it free from the collar while Rachel looked on uncomprehendingly. "It gets cold here at night," she added.

"Oh," Rachel breathed, unable to look away from glimmer of reassuring mischief in Quinn's eyes. Quinn hadn't assuaged all her concerns, however, and she made a move to address them, but she was speaking again.

"We're at the beginning of a relationship. Maybe even before that. If you were hot gluing my clothes to my body, what kind of person would that make me?" she asked, sounding infinitely distracted as her eyes flitted over Rachel's face. It was the most distracted Rachel had seen her so far, and she realized that it must be because she was allowed to be between these four walls, without any immediate threat around. It made her feel watched to the point of being special, but then her words sank in.

"What kind of person does that make _me_?" Rachel asked, slightly distressed. "When all I want to do is—is—unspeakable things! I can literally not bring myself to say these things out loud. What does that make _me_?"

Quinn swallowed noticeably, and exhaled. "I think the blood is working its magic," she said, squaring her shoulders. It was a common gesture and it shouldn't have made Rachel swoon at the majesty that it seemed to radiate, but it did, and it scared her.

"Then release me," Rachel pleaded, grasping at the front of Quinn's shirt. "Command me to be unaffected."

"I've never held on to you, Rachel," she said quietly, removing the hands from her shirt and holding them instead, letting them dangle beside them. Rachel looked up at her pleadingly, waiting for her to continue. "But when you look at me like that…" A muted rumble of a growl escaped from Quinn's closed lips. She pulled Rachel closer by tugging on her hands, and as Rachel looked up into a set of intense eyes, she became distinctly aware of their height difference. "I release you."

Rachel expected something impressive to happen, but nothing came. The room – and by default, they as well – was still bathed in orange, and there was only silence as Quinn waited for a reaction. When no reply was forthcoming aside from Rachel's slightly confused look, Quinn took the initiative. "Tell me your most embarrassing secret."

A smile spread across Rachel's lips. "No." In a fit of giddiness, she added, "_You_ tell me _yours_."

Quinn chuckled, ducking her head slightly. Rachel imagined this would've been the part where she'd blush, except her cheeks remained chalk white. "I didn't give you the entirety of my memory because I was a little enamoured with you back then, and I was embarrassed by it."

"Really?" Rachel asked, trying to blink away the disbelief that kept her from accepting the bit of information.

An eyebrow rose in reply. "You really have a set view of the world, don't you?"

"No—well, yes, I suppose. But I'm told I usually, you know, rub people the wrong way." She shrugged, slowly becoming aware of the fingers interlacing with her own and Quinn's general proximity. The air that Quinn exhaled was cool against her skin, and it was the oddest sensation not to be stifled even though, at times, they shared the same breath. Stranger even – and perhaps just as pleasant – was that whenever she breathed through her mouth, she could taste some unidentifiable sweetness on Quinn's breath. "I—I wasn't acting particularly different towards you," she said, swallowing near the end. When had they gotten this close in the first place?

Quinn didn't reply immediately. "Not all cats dislike being rubbed the wrong way," she said, not all there.

"What?" Rachel became slightly worried at the faraway look. "What is it?"

She shook her head, snapping out of whatever trance she had fallen into. "Your heartbeat." Hazel eyes fell to their linked hands. "It's reverberating through my arms." She focused back on Rachel, who had gotten slightly self-conscious about her speeding heart rate at the admittance. "Can I kiss you now?"

The moment was there. Rachel could practically touch it. It was there for the touching. Also for the taking, but the fact of the matter was that all she could think about was how tangible the moment suddenly was after all that thinking. All that thinking about pink lips and IQ and other deliciously satisfying things, and now, the moment was finally there. The moment she wanted to take to bed, marry and reproduce with. She could live in this moment forever.

"_Rachel!_"

Hands on her shoulders snapped her out of the mental rant, and she watched the panic ebb away from Quinn's expression.

"Geeze, for a moment I thought you were going to pass out," Quinn huffed. "Your heart was doing this crazy thing where—"

But Rachel wasn't listening anymore. She couldn't let the moment slip away, so she wrapped her arms around it and pulled it down. She took the kiss she wanted for so long, and she was pretty sure she cut her lip on one of Quinn's canines in her haste, but it was those glorious fifty seconds all over again. In fact, it was even better, because along with the sting in her lip came the healing prickle and a repressed growl from Quinn that made her quiver in excitement.

She tangled her hands in blonde hair, and sure enough, Quinn's arms wrapped around her middle. It took little to no effort to finally deepen the kiss beyond careful touches. Rachel suspected it was because Quinn had literally tasted blood while she was allowed to do something she had apparently _also _wanted to do for a while, because she was turning incredibly demanding in her touches. While there were no actual teeth involved, the hands at her back grasped tightly at her sweater and Quinn was so persistent in loving her mouth that Rachel had to take a step back every once in a while to keep her balance.

It was very possibly dangerous to be kissing a bloodthirsty vampire, but fear was an emotion Rachel wasn't even contemplating at that moment, because, for lack of better euphemism, Quinn's tongue was in her mouth. The blunt thought should've alerted her, except it was at least ten shades of glorious. It was smooth and wet and dear God, Quinn tasted exactly like she smelled, which was just not humanly possible.

Then again, as far as Rachel was concerned, it was also humanly impossible for her to be so into the kiss that she did not even notice she was being driven into the wall. So lost was she in the feeling of being wanted – and wanting, for the matter – that she did not feel the end of the room coming until her back made contact with the hard surface. But even that didn't deter her. Oxygen was a superfluous luxury and all she needed was to breathe Quinn.

Sadly, that was not what Quinn thought.

Quinn broke away with some effort, mostly because Rachel followed her lips like they were opposite magnets. "Sorry," she rasped, when finally they settled so that the smaller woman could regain her bearings.

Rachel breathed a laugh at the apology, resting her forehead against the blonde's shoulder, then sighed once Quinn settled for simply hugging her, "Shut up, Quinncredible."

* * *

><p><strong>Shout out to the lovely fic, Kissing Quinn Fabray. The reference was really totally random.<strong>

**I think you should know I have a word limit for my chapter (that I keep breaking, I may add). So when I say a chapter is too long, it's because it's longer than 2000 words. Not because… whatever other crazy reason there is.**

**I have to get up in three hours, so excuse the lack of depth in this A/N. **

**Death to my motivation for popping up at the strangest time.**

**Much love,  
><strong>**Plush**

**NoMercyNoMore; **Don't we all though? Don't we all.  
><strong>Jay; <strong>EXCELLENT QUESTION. She probably released Frederique somewhere. If you love it, let it go. Taking it with them would just be an unnecessary burden.  
><strong>x-crazy-4-cat-x; <strong>Don't feel pressured! It's all good. It's even better that you liked everything so far. I hope this chapter was okay, since I have the feeling nothing of importance really happened here. Well, the point was to build their relationship, and that happened, but still. Omg, let's be friends. I love it when people spur me into trolling others. Love it, I do.  
><strong>SaberGirl1005; <strong>Dead Island is definitely more hands on than Left for Dead. That's the impression it left on me, anyway. Glad you like it though.  
><strong>JessicaLiz; <strong>Well, that's new! Someone who's happy with character death, haha. And it was too long according to my word limit. Not so much… whatever xD  
><strong>Anonymous; <strong>It was my pleasure ;D  
><strong>Lilmeister; <strong>Didn't I reply to your review already? … did I?


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

They tried to spend the rest of the night talking about something productive, like their course of action in attempting to find Rachel's friends, and they managed to do so for a while. But the room was lit by candles and the only place to sit was the bed. It had been doable, until Rachel decided that lying down was a good idea. She wasn't even tired, just felt like a change of positions that so happened to involve snuggling into a pillow.

Quinn fell silent at her action.

She didn't even need to ask what was wrong, because then Quinn was hovering over her, arms resting on the bed on either side of her body. For a brief moment, Rachel had hoped for another kiss, yet what Quinn did was so much better. She nudged Rachel into position and proceeded to cuddle into her as if she weren't an almighty vampire that would take on a tiny army. The fact that Quinn needed something so fragile of her made Rachel melt into a puddle of fluffy goo. So she squeezed the other woman to her, not quite believing that someone so soft and caring could also be such a hardass.

And that's when she squealed in protest, because a cool hand had slipped underneath her warm sweater. Quinn had laughed at her admonishment of, "bad Quinn!" and pointedly wriggled her fingers at her lower back, not removing the hand, but Rachel didn't really care. The entire situation was simply wonderful. She couldn't quite remember feeling this happy in Forever. If all she had to worry about was a chilly hand on her skin, then hallelujah, life was great.

There was still some talking going on, but it quickly died out in favour of simply enjoying the cuddling session. Rachel enjoyed the delicateness of the moment, whereas Quinn really seemed to like pressing any and all cold limbs to her flesh. The reflex to arch away from the cold touches may have led to accidentally shoving her sternum into Quinn's face – which she still doesn't believe hurt her nose – but karma was a bitch.

Later that night, Rachel woke up with a weight resting on selective parts of her torso. She glanced down in the sparse light of the large candle – really, it was more like a bucket of wax than a candle – and saw a mop of blonde hair resting on her chest. It creeped her out that Quinn didn't breathe when she slept, making her out to be every bit the corpse that she was, but the way she was lying on top of her made most of the uneasiness go away. Rachel's sweater was by all means too large, and Quinn had taken full advantage of it by pulling down the collar enough for her to press her face into the skin at the top of her chest, near her heart.

Had it been anyone else, she would've pushed them away in annoyance, but Quinn's perpetual need for warmth rubbed her in all the right ways.

Or maybe that was just Quinn.

Quinn stirred briefly, pressing her nose into warm skin and inhaling deeply. The air it released was lukewarm, but it made her skin prickle in the best of ways. The blonde then gave a languid squeeze to Rachel's waist before settling down again and becoming immobile.

Rachel briefly entertained the idea of Finn doing the same.

Yup, it was definitely just Quinn.

"She's not telling you everything," a voice said from her right. If the voice hadn't been distinctly Quinn's, Rachel would have jumped out of bed and straight into the ceiling. Instead, she turned her head to the side and saw IQ reclining in the empty space on the bed next to her. She was smiling down at the real Quinn, which just made Rachel's mind reel.

"What are you doing here?" Rachel whispered, sending IQ a frown for ogling her woman—wait, what?

IQ looked up, raising an amused brow at Rachel. "Are you jealous of yourself?" She shook her head as Rachel opened her mouth to respond. "Don't bother denying, I know everything."

Rachel huffed in reply, trying not to stir Quinn as she replied as quietly as she could. "Really, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you only be able to annoying me in my dreams?"

"Would that make Quinn the woman of your dreams?" IQ asked with a smug smile. Thankfully, she sobered at Rachel's insistent glare. "Quinn isn't telling you everything."

"What do you mean? You and I know the same things." Her brows knitted together in confusion.

"That's true. But what you need to know _consciously_ is that Quinn has tried really, really hard to keep all the memories from before the apocalypse to herself," IQ pointed out, reaching out nonchalantly to play with Quinn's fingers that had been resting on the bed. Rachel decided then and there that seeing IQ flirting with her likeness was far creepier than Quinn emulating a corpse as she slept. But then, IQ was her, so what did that make her? A secret pervert? Or just attracted to Quinn? "You don't know anything about the person she was before the end of the world. She walks in the sunlight and is immune to infection? What is up with that? And one of her reactions, real subtle, just doesn't add up."

Rachel had wanted to ask for more information, even though, deep down, she knew it was ridiculous because IQ knew as much as she did, but then she was too distracted jumping out of her skin. Quinn had woken up and pretty much launched herself at IQ with a ferocious growl that actually had the desired effect of scaring Rachel. IQ disappeared instantly, leaving the vampire to wade in confusion and Rachel to scrape her heart from the ceiling.

Quinn glanced down at Rachel apologetically, a drowsiness returning to her features that had all but evaporated just a few seconds ago. "Sorry." She fell into a heap next to Rachel, lazily running a hand over her face. "I thought someone was there. I must've been dreaming."

Rachel's heart beat in her throat. "That—" She cleared her throat to get rid of the squeak in her voice. "That's okay."

"Are you okay? I didn't scare you too bad, did I?" she asked softly, inching closer again until their bodies were touching.

With a steadying breath, Rachel turned onto her side to face Quinn, their legs tangling of their own accord. The effortless intimacy made her smile in what she was sure was a stupid fashion. "Just a little."

Quinn leaned up and pressed a kiss between her eyes. "Sorry."

Her behaviour made Rachel smile widen in a way that she didn't even try to hide, and her fondness only grew once she saw the same smile directed right back at her. It was the tiny actions such as these that reminded Rachel that Quinn wasn't just faking it to get into her collar, so she allowed herself to bask in the moment until it appeared that Quinn was going to fall back asleep. "Quinndelicate?"

Quinn chuckled at yet another creative nickname. "You're like a walking dictionary, aren't you?"

She knew it was a compliment, but still she couldn't help herself. "Yeah, well, you're like a walking… _cure for cancer_, okay?" It was just as ridiculous now as when she first said it in her dream, but the truth was that she really could not compare Quinn to anything that existed. That included the fictional vampires she had in mind.

Quinn reared back slightly in surprise, then outright laughed at the comeback. Rachel huffed at the reaction, but really couldn't find it in herself to be annoyed if it made Quinn light up like that. Thankfully for her pride, Quinn let it go pretty easily, and instead focused on Rachel with something that resembled seriousness. "What's the matter, Rickety?" she asked softly, her smile never really dying out.

Rachel started to play with a loose thread on her sleeve, despite that her nerves were mostly in check. "Why don't I know anything about your life prior to meeting me?" she asked, chancing a glance at hazel eyes.

"I was wondering when you would start noticing that," Quinn said, not in the least bit hindered by the question. And even though Rachel thought she had her nerves under control, she couldn't help but breathe easier at the lack of negative reaction. "It's just…" Rachel watched on, transfixed, as several emotions started playing on Quinn's face. She seemed to be struggling with either her words or her emotions – or both. "A lot of bad things have happened, and my life only really started at the beginning of the end."

"That's… surprisingly vague," Rachel prodded gently.

The corner of her mouth curled upwards into a sheepish half-smile, and Rachel could almost feel the strain she was putting on her, but Quinn spoke nevertheless. "I used to be head cheerleader at McKinley High—"

"_What_? No way!" Rachel exclaimed as she grasped for Quinn's hand with both of hers, her enthusiasm overriding her tact. "Me too! Well, I wasn't a _cheerleader_, but I went there as well. Lima, Ohio, right? How come I've never seen you?"

"In 1989," Quinn finished with a tiny wince, knitting her eyebrows together in discomfort. "So unless you're secretly 40 years old, I highly doubt we would've met."

"Oh." Rachel deflated, and pouted in disappointment. She quickly brightened up, however, when she realized something. The sudden, extreme changes in attitude seemed to amuse Quinn, if her smile was anything to go by. "Brittany and Santana – two of my friends – used to be Cheerios. They might recognize you from the pictures in coach Sylvester's office."

"Sylvester was still the Cheerios' coach?" Quinn asked, confused. "That's impressive."

"She wasn't the youngest around, but she certainly got the job done." Rachel shrugged, focusing on their linked hands and amused to see she was unconsciously playing with Quinn's fingers much like IQ had done. "Quinn? May I ask how you became a vampire?" she asked, turning hopeful eyes on the blonde.

In response, a shadow fell over Quinn's face. She stilled the hand that had been going along with Rachel's playful nudges, her eyes turning troubled as they stared off into thin air. It was as clear a nonverbal answer as Rachel ever came across.

"I'm sorry, that was too direct," she apologized quickly, retracting her own hands until they were comfortably bunched underneath her chin.

Quinn looked at her, letting out a reflexive sigh. "I don't remember," she whispered, the words sounding heavy on her tongue even in Rachel's ears. Rachel's eyes widened at the response, and she watched as Quinn picked at the bed linens in frustration. "Can we talk about something else?" she bit out, vaguely reminding Rachel of Santana when she was too tired to snap at her properly.

"Of course. Sorry."

It was a stab at Rachel's heart when, instead of actually talking about anything else, Quinn turned around to continue her sleep without as much as another glance.

Sleep came uneasy, but the next morning she knew all was well. She woke up to something tickling her face, which she came to blame on Quinn as soon as she saw her breakfast laid out before her. Apple slices lay on a makeshift plate of some wiped down plastic, but what caught her attention was the slice shaped as a heart lying on top. She turned to look over her shoulder, eying the way Quinn was scuffing her foot against the floor. The woman shot her a tentative smile, one that Rachel returned with a radiant one of her own, and that was all they needed for now.

Quinn did throw in another peace offering. Remembering how distraught Rachel had been when she thought she was on her own, Quinn showed the smaller woman a map of all the safe houses she had cleared out and places where she could find emergency food supplies, and fruit- and vegetable gardens. The supplies and safe houses were located way too far from each other to reach within a day's worth of walking, which meant she still needed Quinn to get from A to B, but Rachel could not complain at receiving the goldmine of information.

She declined taking the map when Quinn offered it to her, stating it had less chance of getting lost in her backpack. Taking it may have meant autonomy, but it also felt like signing the approval for their separation.

* * *

><p>"Do you hear that?" Rachel asked, making Quinn change course and land on one of the many flat roofs. It surprised her slightly that Quinn hadn't picked up on it first, but fair was fair; she had been lugging around a dead weight the entire morning. She may have done it with an ease that put pretty much anyone she ever met to shame, but still.<p>

"Someone's whistling," Quinn noticed, then looked down at Rachel in disbelief. "By himself?"

"We should check it out." Rachel disengaged from the hold Quinn had on her, but Quinn was already shaking her head.

"_I'll_ check it out and you stay here." It wasn't so much a suggestion as an order. One that Rachel couldn't very well argue, because she kind of needed Quinn to jump down the building. After receiving her trusty bat, she watched Quinn go.

"Wait, wait!" Rachel urged, walking over to Quinn, who had a questioning look on her face. She reached up once she stood in front of the woman and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. Quinn by all means didn't resist, but raised a brow at the action nevertheless. "In case it's the last time," she explained, adorning a shy grin.

"Silly, lovable monster," Quinn quipped with a broad smile, tapping a finger to Rachel's nose. Then, with an added good-natured roll of the eyes at Rachel's pout, she stepped off the ledge.

* * *

><p>It was a good, <em>good<em> while later that Rachel was distracted from keeping watch. In the time that she was alone, she had reminded herself to ask Quinn for a watch, and had already invented a nickname for the bat in her hands. Her trusty aluminium friend would go by Batman from here on. It left her smiling proudly.

"_Oof_."

"I swear to God, if you even _think _about copping another feel, I will not have the decency to drop you from nonlethal heights the next time," Quinn spat angrily, walking over to where Rachel was in the process of turning around.

"Kitten's got claws," he coughed.

Rachel gaped once she saw the man lying on the ground.

"The Puckasaurus approves."

* * *

><p><strong>I wonder if I can get someone to write QuinnRachel/IQ fanfiction, 'cause it sure as hell ain't gonna be canon, lmao.**

**Let me fill up this space with a quote, since I have nothing to say to MY DEAR REVIEWERS tonight. Well, except that I love them, but that goes without saying.  
><strong>**Friend: "Batman and apple hearts."  
><strong>**Me: "Yes."  
><strong>**Friend: "You are so lame."**

**Much love,  
><strong>**Plush**

**Rioshix; **Hahaha, there's nothing wrong with having a soft side. As this chapter shows, it's simply l;aksdjfajg ;D  
><strong>Nightcuddler; <strong>Success! ;D  
><strong>Carouselhorse; <strong>I'm suddenly very glad you need my body _alive _to get such a scene, haha. And I would write such a scene, except, y'know, Puck's there now. Trolololol.  
><strong>Insanetwin16; <strong>I've thought about it vaguely, their reaction to Quinn. It's going to be epic, ufufufufu.  
><strong>S8104; <strong>Let me just answer you privately, if I haven't already xD


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Noah!" Rachel exclaimed, running over to hug the man with the scruffy faux hawk. While they hadn't been the best of friends during their time together with the gang, he had been pleasant company next to Finn and Brittany. He was one of the few people that actually stuck up for her during her more rational arguments, even though his motives usually didn't extend beyond their shared beliefs and levels of hotness. She appreciated his existence and could imagine being sad at losing him rather than Mercedes.

"_Whoa_." Puck had only barely gotten up and was already bowled over with the force Rachel took him in a hug. He laughed at the tiny force of nature, easy and loud, and returned the embrace. "Easy on the ribs there, Spitfire. I think Rosalie may have bruised some."

Rachel chuckled at the Twilight reference, staying in position a little while longer. His arms were huge around her, several belts that held equipment poked her in the ribs, and he reeked of ammonia, but she could look up into his eyes and safely claim that she was happy to see him. It was contradictory of her to feel like that when they had hardly been bros for life, but she supposed that travelling together through a zombie apocalypse created a certain bond that made it okay for her to feel almost like having her long lost brother returned to her.

She pulled back and gave Puck a meaningful look, one that translated his importance, and he returned it with a grin.

And then she punched him hard in the shoulder.

"_Ow_!" He let her go and immediately rubbed at the tender spot. "What was that for?" he moaned, taking a peek under the shirt to have a glance at it. "Shit, Spitfire, what have you been eating? Adamantium? Geeze, that hurt."

"That was for harassing Quinn!" she said, folding her arms and reverting to full lecturing mode. "Despite the fact that entire cultures have been wiped out and most of the customary social etiquette is no longer applicable to our situation, you do not – under any circumstances – manhandle a lady!"

He glanced from the highly entertained blonde to the dead serious woman right before him, mirroring Quinn's amusement. "Baby, you can't tame the Puckasaur—_ow_!" Rachel had smacked his other shoulder, and then he was rubbing at yet another tender spot. "Okay, okay! It's no big deal. My hand just… slipped."

"From shoulder to ass?" Quinn asked sceptically, though no longer with any ire. If anything, she appeared appeased and borderline delighted at the entire exchange. "I'm sure you're just a regular butterfingers."

Puck almost visibly turned on his swag as he slanted his eyes, raised an eyebrow, and gave Quinn the nod. "Baby, I'm just that smooth."

"What does that even—you know what? Never mind. I'm keeping out of this." Quinn threw her hands up in the air, as if literally pushing away the entire occurrence in front of her.

Rachel turned her back to Quinn to hide her smile, unable to not be amused at the exchange. He caught her look and threw her a wink. Puck was still Puck. The sky was still blue. The world was right. "What are you doing here, Noah? Alone? Oh God, is everyone alright?" she asked, fear creeping into her voice.

"I think so," he replied thoughtfully, not as if he'd been left behind to die at all. "Mercedes took a fall a couple o' miles back." He gestured to the east, the direction in which they were heading. "And we were ambushed by a flock of nasties when we raided this gun shop. I was nowhere near the main entrance so I had to take the back door to get away. From there on, I tried tracking them down, but I haven't seen them anywhere in two days now. I was lucky 'cause I had supplies around."

In the background, Quinn pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows, unable to believe the mistake he made. Rachel sighed, taking on the gentlest tone she could muster as she rested a hand on his arm. "Noah?"

Puck glanced between the two of them suspiciously. "What?"

"You were heading west, the opposite direction of where Salvation lies." As she said this, she was reminded of Quinn's words, specifically about how she had been there. She made a mental note to ask her later, at the next safe house.

"Oh. That explains a lot, actually," he said, looking to some place at his right. "I thought that Wal-Mart looked familiar." He shot a grin in their direction and threw an arm around Rachel's shoulders. "Looks like I got lucky, though! Two hot mamas to take care of the Puckzilla."

Quinn scoffed, averting her eyes.

"About that," Rachel started carefully, removing the arm from her shoulders. "Remember how Finn initiated the '_bro code_' when we were together?"

"Babe, those were the hardest three days of my life," Puck remarked with a smarmy grin, holding a hand over his heart.

Rachel shot him a warning look, but otherwise didn't react to the jab. "I realize that the brotherhood code is heavily entangled with certain gender dynamics, but I wish to implement it nevertheless."

"For what purpose, half-pint?"

"No interaction with the intention to sexually acquire either Quinn or I," Rachel stated confidently, even in the face of a confused Puck.

"Damn, baby Jew, that's a serious restriction. On what grounds?" He ran a hand through his hair, messing up what was left of the faux hawk. "This isn't about the 'no reproduction' rule, is it? I'm sure there are some condoms lying around—"

"_As appealing as that sounds_," Rachel cut in hastily, only able to transform her grimace into something akin to a disapproving frown because she could see Quinn recoiling visibly in the background. "Quinn and I are in a relationship and I think I speak for the both of us when I say that we would very much like to avoid any and all confusion."

Puck glanced between Quinn, who had taken to awkwardly avoiding eye contact, and Rachel, and back again. "For real?" he asked, suspicion written all over his face.

Rachel nodded happily.

"_Dude_," he said gravely, and for the shortest of moments, Rachel was worried that he might do something drastic. "That's _awesome_. Does this mean I get to watch you two make out? I swear, I won't even complain if there's no tongue," he continued on excitedly.

Rachel was about to respond, negatively she might add, but Quinn spoke before her. "I hate to interrupt your little reunion, but we're burning daylight and we still have no idea how we're going to get to the next safe house."

Thankfully, Puck had always been one to know when to switch from play- to business time, and now was no exception. "We'll have a _detailed_ bro-to-bro talk later," he said with a wink.

* * *

><p>"Not too shabby," Puck remarked as the three entered a doorless shack in the middle of a barren field littered with dead flowers. They had chosen said resting place simply because the next safe house was too far away to reach at a normal pace and, as much as the mental image held humorouspotential, nobody wanted Quinn to carry around both Puck and Rachel at the same time. So, after a lot of bickering – mostly between Puck and Rachel – Quinn offered the solution.<p>

"Are you sure you can go an entire night without sleep?" Rachel asked, turning to shoot Quinn a worried look. "I'm sure we can alternate watches."

"I've stayed awake longer. It screws with my head after a few days, but a day is nothing," Quinn said, watching on as Puck cleared a space of sharp tools and other objects for what would presumably become their place to sleep. "Besides, if we're going to be discreet about being here, we shouldn't light a fire. I'm the only one who's more than fully functional in almost complete darkness."

Rachel glanced over at Puck to make sure he was busy enough, and leaned into Quinn's side so she could whisper her reply as inconspicuously as possible, but then thought better of it and settled for trying to wipe the pout from her lips. They had spent so much time together, the prospect of not having the woman to cuddle up to was starting to make her resent Puck's presence. She knew it was a luxury they couldn't afford right now, but she had really, _really_ come to like that luxury.

Quinn watched on in amused interest as Rachel tried to hide her disappointment and, for once, held back on what she wanted to say.

"I say that we let Rosalie do her thing," Puck said, getting up when he was satisfied with the empty space. "We got a vampire on our side, who are we to—"

"_Who_ is Rosalie?" Quinn asked out of the blue, irritated. "My name is _Quinn_."

Puck and Rachel simultaneously turned their heads to stare at the blonde. "You haven't seen, read or heard of Twilight?" Puck asked, and, upon receiving a shake of the head, nodded his approval. "Nice."

Quinn shot him a questioning look, then turned to Rachel for an explanation.

"Twilight was a popular young-adult vampire romance novel wherein the vampires sparkled as diamonds in the sunlight and were tough as granite," Rachel explained. "Rosalie was an exceptionally beautiful yet hostile vampire. She was mainly depicted as jealous of the main character's humanity, though I suspect Puck is referring to her beauty rather than her vices."

The way Rachel was explaining everything with such a pokerface, transferring the compliment so that both Rachel and Puck were the flatterers, made Quinn raise an eyebrow. "Oh." She ducked her head and glanced at the other woman in such a way that made not smiling impossible for Rachel.

A silent moment of mutual appreciation.

"_Now kiss_," Puck stage whispered from where he was standing, interrupting the scene.

Quinn rolled her eyes at the comment and proceeded to help make the tiny space a bit more liveable while Rachel mourned the loss of yet another intimate moment.

* * *

><p>When Rachel woke up that night because of a strange smell, she wasn't surprised at the almost complete lack of eyesight. What she was surprised about, was the warm back she was sleeping up against. With a crinkle of the nose, she realized that the strange scent was Puck and that she had rolled over in her sleep to cuddle with the closest body.<p>

She sighed, turning around. She really couldn't blame the man for not bathing properly, but if it was enough for her to wake up, that said something.

A brief flash of Puck complaining about her strength entered her mind.

Or maybe her senses had improved since the last time she saw him.

"Quinn?" she whispered, hoping that the woman could hear her. It might be selfish, but she knew sleep would not come easy until she had used the opportunity to its full potential. Sure enough, a pair of reflecting eyes eventually appeared in the doorway. Footsteps came closer, and then there was some shuffling and a clink of metal as those eyes settled at a strange angle that was too high to indicate that Quinn had sat down. Rachel guessed Quinn had kneeled in front of her and put down the machete she'd seen her carrying before falling asleep.

"Can't sleep?" came the quiet question.

"Maybe." She looked away guiltily. "I may miss you," she said, figuring she could be honest without Puck's conscious presence.

Quinn breathed a laugh, which – quite unexpectedly – turned into a brief snort. Apparently that made the entire situation even funnier, because then Quinn sounded like she was dying to keep her laugh quiet. A steady weight came to rest upon Rachel's shoulder, and the hairs tickling the side of her face and the shaking of a pair of shoulders indicated that Quinn had just leaned forwards to try and muffle her laugh in Rachel's sweater.

Rachel would've been angry, except Quinn just _snorted _and lost all composure. If that hadn't been the most charming embarrassing sound she'd ever heard, she could have played it off. Sadly, that was not the case, and when she ended up smiling as if she was promoting toothpaste instead, she joined in on the quiet laughter. "It's not funny!" she whispered, unable to keep the laugh from her voice. "Oh my God, I hate you," she added, still in good humour.

"I'm sorry!" she hissed through her dying chuckles. The weight from Rachel's shoulder disappeared and gleaming eyes reappeared. "I didn't mean to—It's just that I—We haven't been separated at all, and it's not that funny, but—" She cleared her throat and tried to sound serious from thereon, but Rachel would bet money on the fact that she was still smiling. "Sorry, continue."

"You wound me." She shot Quinn an exaggerated hurt look. Normally, she would've reached for the other woman for added effect, but the darkness made that impossible. "Kiss it better."

A hand came to rest on her cheek, and a short moment later, Rachel startled because their noses bumped together gently. She opened her mouth to speak, but then her lips were otherwise engaged.

Rachel likened the kiss to cinnamon tea. Not because Quinn tasted like cinnamon – she wasn't even going to try describing _that_ – but because the way their lips kept sliding together was just as sweet and playful, and poured a warmth into her that started at the mouth. There was also something distinctly down to earth and grounding about the kiss that she associated with taste.

She felt a loss when they parted, but those eyes reassured her that she wasn't alone in the darkness. There was something missing, however. "Why aren't you breathing?"

"Because Puck smells," Quinn answered. Rachel suspected it was the inclination in her voice, but the words seemed to radiate a smile.

"That's the scent of a real man," came the tired reply.

Rachel jumped slightly at the reply, completely having forgotten about Puck. Quickly recovering, she asked, "How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough to wish I could see in the dark."

Rachel stuck out her tongue at the man, knowing full well that he couldn't see it. The personal gratification that it gave her was more than enough. Above her, Quinn laughed to herself. "She's sticking out her tongue at you," Quinn told Puck.

"Great. Tell her to put it to good use during the _daytime_," he jibed. "Now stop flirting so loudly and let me sleep."

Rachel waited until those eyes looked down at her, and then she reached up to steal a quick kiss. "Good night, Quinn."

"Good night, Monster."

"Barf."

* * *

><p><strong>Since I lost the second part of the chapter somewhere in the train (station) or bus, I had to rewrite it, which may explain the choppy quality to it. Scenes that I have no idea how I worked them in and are thus missing: 1) Rachel elbowing Puck in the ribs for staring at Quinn's lower anatomy after she bends over, even though Rachel was doing the same thing. 2) Puck getting a goodnight kiss as well (on the cheek, I might add).<strong>

**She dreams of para-para-paradise. Para-para-paradissjfaeifjalkdg. I need to stop clicking things.**

**Much love,  
><strong>**Plush**

**Smartblonde317;** If I told you what Quinn was hiding, there wouldn't be much to it, would there? :P  
><strong>MsChloeMa; <strong>What's not to like about him though? I totally ship me some Puckleberry bromance.  
><strong>Riverkirby; <strong>LOL. I think it's safe to say that Puck will not be impregnating anyone in this fic. Not the natural way, anyhow.  
><strong>MsCFH; <strong>I know I should be glad I'm making you late for work, but I can't help but feel guilty about it :P Let me give you some extra review points for that.  
><strong>Valvox; <strong>That sounds mighty tempting. That's all I will say~

**Several references in this chapter:  
><strong>**Bro code – How I met your mother  
><strong>**Adamantium – X-men  
><strong>**Rosalie – Twilight**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Puck straightened his back, took a deep breath, and focused in on his target. He let go of the air slowly, and released the bowstring.

A few dozen metres away, the arrow struck a zombie in the shoulder. The three arrows that stuck from its body were barely hindering its ability to limp closer to the trio.

"Damnit," he cursed with a frown, turning to Quinn with his bow. She'd been standing behind him for all his attempts at shooting, arms crossed in an unimpressed fashion, while Rachel stood to his right, closely observing his shots with a pair of binoculars. "Something's wrong with this gear. It can't shoot straight to save its life."

"Then we find something that _does_ agree with you, because you sure as hell aren't going to use that shotgun in my vicinity," Quinn said, eying the weapon that Puck carried around in a makeshift holster.

Rachel dropped the rather unnecessary binoculars from her eyes. "What do you suggest?" she asked, finding the entire situation rather amusing. Puck had hit the zombie in practically all vital organs _except _the head.

"A naginata, for all I care." Rachel shot Quinn a disapproving look that just made her roll her eyes before looking away.

Puck was smiling rather smugly when Rachel turned to him. "What silent weapons are you proficient with, Noah?"

He took a moment to think, ignoring the moody blonde. "Silenced guns?" he finally offered. "I don't know. I just don't feel comfortable getting close to infected, okay?"

Quinn looked up at the admission, as if given an idea. "Rachel, why don't you try the bow?"

Puck and Rachel exchanged glances before Puck handed over the weapon. "I gotta see this," he said with a smirk.

Rachel shot the zombie straight in the eye socket.

From thereon, it was decided that Rachel would handle Robin – the bow, once again so aptly named by Rachel – while Puck got to wield Batman until they found a solution for his predicament.

* * *

><p>"Oh shit, a Hostess truck," Puck remarked as soon as the truck came into sight. Rachel grabbed at his arm and bounced up and down a few times to show her glee.<p>

Quinn peered down the street, raising an eyebrow at the discovery. There were maybe two undead visibly zoning out as they stood there. She looked over at the excited couple, relenting pretty much instantly when she came across wide brown eyes. She sighed in exasperation. "What do you want?"

"Sno Balls!" Rachel answered at the same time Puck responded with, "Twinkies!"

Silent as a cat, Quinn made her way over to the truck. Completely bypassing the zombies, to both Rachel and Puck's surprise, she came back with a box of Sno Balls.

Puck didn't complain as he took a bite from creamy goodness.

* * *

><p>Rachel experienced a certain kind of déjà-vu when she woke up, huddled up into Puck's side. He was nice and warm in a large kind of way, what with the breeze they were exposed to at this height. They had found a strategically placed roof to camp for the night, which she thought was a great plan when the sun was out. Now, however, under the dark sky and in the cold breeze, she wished they'd gone for something with walls.<p>

She turned around, readjusting her makeshift blanket as she went, only to come face to face with IQ's amused eyes. Rachel sighed at her appearance. It was surprisingly easy to spot the imaginary woman in the full moon, and so was the actual Quinn, who was standing on watch with her back to them a short distance away.

Rachel raised an expectant eyebrow at IQ, who remained adamant in her amusement. "Getting twitchy?" IQ asked, tilting her head.

Rachel furrowed her eyebrows. _Twitchy about what?_

"Quinn is right there, ready for the taking," IQ whispered, leaning in closer. She stopped rather suddenly in her advances, eyes flitting to the immobile man besides them. "But so is Puck."

Rachel narrowed her eyes at the woman, wondering what she was getting at.

"But I'm just a dream," she continued, looking down at the brunette. Rachel jolted when she felt a hand slip over her hips, under her sweater and across her stomach, soft and teasing. "They will never know," she breathed into her ear.

Rachel gasped at the feeling of blunt nails running across tender skin. It felt so real and kind of nice, but oh dear God, Puck and Quinn were nearby. Quinn, who was very much conscious and hyper-sensitive to any and all sounds.

Thankfully, and very much out of the blue, IQ was yanked back by the shoulder. Rachel was rewarded with the image of Quinn pinning IQ's hands to the floor. A low growl sounded from between clenched teeth, "_Begone_." IQ obeyed the order, disappearing into thin air. Rachel was just about ready to jump into an explanation, but gleaming eyes turned to her, and instantly, Quinn was hovering over her in a possessive fashion.

"_Mine_."

It was a simple word and it shouldn't have rung that painfully in her ears, but it did, and the next thing Rachel knew, she was jolting awake. Her eyes flitted around the darkened roof, finding that Puck was still asleep behind her and Quinn was still standing watch. Gleaming eyes turned to her, an unspoken question in them, but once Rachel confirmed it had _all_ been a dream and settled back down, Quinn turned away again.

For a few moments longer, Rachel stared at Quinn's immobile back.

What was this mind-fuckery?

* * *

><p>"So what <em>do<em> you eat?" Puck asked, eying Quinn as they walked down a gloriously empty road.

"Your mom," Quinn responded with sarcasm. Puck blinked, wondering if he heard right, then laughed rather loudly at her answer.

"Quinn!" Rachel scolded, staring incredulously. It was around this time that she started noticing that something was wrong with Quinn. At first, Quinn seemed apathetic about Pucks presence, but now she was showing downright hostile traits. It was a good thing Puck seemed to take everything in stride.

If she hadn't been so busy watching the road, Quinn would have rolled her eyes. "Rachel," she corrected.

It took a moment for Puck to realize that Quinn meant to say she ate Rachel. "_Oh_," he breathed with a faraway look on his face. "You could always—"

"No." Quinn looked around, then turned left into a street, leading them towards the next safe house.

* * *

><p>"We're taking the bedroom, Butterfingers," Quinn called after Puck as he checked the two other rooms the bunker had. Rachel raised a brow at the way she demanded it, because it would've been theirs by default. It was simple math, really. A couple and a double bed equalled—oh God, that equalled appropriate time for shameless cuddling and kissing.<p>

"Dude," Puck said as he came back out of the bedroom. "That nickname is drastically uncool."

"Then how about _spineless coward_?" Quinn growled, actually flashing her canines as she sneered at the man. Rachel was startled by how she legitimately growled, and looked about ready to pounce on her very suspecting prey. While she appreciated certain dramatics, she quickly undertook action before Quinn did something extreme, because Puck was making no move to protect himself physically or emotionally.

"Quinn!" she chastised, and the ferocity of those eyes turned to her. She straightened her back under the intensity. "I understand that Puck sounds questionable most of the time, but he's harmless, really."

Quinn's face crumpled. There was no other way to describe it. One moment she looked ready tear someone's head off and now she just looked confused? Helpless? Rachel couldn't really place the emotions that flitted across her face.

"Forget about it," Quinn said, hastily pushing past the two and entering the bedroom. Unsurprisingly, the door closed immediately behind her.

"Noah Puckerman!" Puck snapped to attention at the sound of his name. "What did you do?"

"Nothing, I swear!" Puck held up his hands in surrender. There was something off about the way he said it, but Rachel couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Your 'nothing' has obviously upset Quinn a great deal. I've known her long enough that she wouldn't become angry at simply anything," she explained, hoping that was enough to start eating at his conscience. Sure enough, he did start to look reluctantly sheepish. "Now excuse me while I do some damage control." She also pushed past the man and entered the room, closing the door behind her.

Quinn was sitting on the ground on the other side of the bed, leaning back against the wall. Her legs were hugged against her chest as she stared thoughtfully into space. Rachel briefly considered how fitting the position was for someone who was trying to keep her emotions in check.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asked, walking over before sitting down next to the blonde. With no other reaction besides a brief shift in those thoughtful eyes, she leaned in so that their shoulders touched and spoke softly. "What is this about, Quinn? I know you're not jealous. I've been very frank when it came to Puck's advances, so that can't be it."

This managed to pull a tiny smile from Quinn. It didn't last for long, but at least it was something. Rachel could see she was troubled, that was no mystery. "I'm not really good at this," Quinn replied eventually.

"At what? Talking?" Rachel guessed, trying to catch Quinn's elusive eyes. She shared Quinn's amusement when her lips curled up into another tiny smile. "That's okay. Opposed to popular opinion, I can be quite patient when the need arises."

"I have no doubt." Quinn let the light-hearted air drop with a sigh. "I've been feeling increasingly…" She rolled her jaw, lowering her eyes to the ground.

"Yes?" Rachel prodded gently, absentmindedly wondering if it was appropriate to lean against the woman's shoulder.

"I've been becoming angrier and… scared," she finally forced out.

"Of Puck?" Rachel asked incredulously. Even before Quinn actually did it, she knew the woman was going to shoot her a dignified look.

"No, not Puck. It's _all _of your friends," Quinn corrected. Now it was Rachel's turn to become slightly dignified.

"This again?" she sighed.

"This _always,_" Quinn snapped angrily, turning her heated gaze on Rachel. "They abandoned you in the middle of nowhere, Rachel. It wasn't like you were on the brink of death or infected. You guys weren't even being chased for God's sake! It was barely a flesh wound. A clean one, at that."

Rachel's eyes widened. "You were following us," she concluded softly.

"Yes. Yes, I was. I saw how they treated you, and heard how they came to decision to get you injured so they could leave you behind." Quinn waited for a reply with a clenched jaw, but Rachel was merely watching her with incredulity, slowly becoming the victim to a sinking feeling of dread. "And don't even try to reason that it makes me a bad person for not stopping them, because we both know that would have been futile."

All those words were like tiny little pinpricks to Rachel's heart, until she couldn't take it anymore and it simply broke. She knew it to be the truth. She may have turned a blind eye to the group's behaviour because it was too painful to see, but now it was hard to deny. Her eyes blurred with tears, and she could feel her chin tremble as she fought valiantly to keep the illusion of a happy family in tact.

"I'm sorry," Quinn murmured delicately, and then she was cupping Rachel's face in her hands. Rachel sucked in a breath as the first tear fell, but was comforted at the same time by the cool air against her skin as Quinn rested their foreheads together.

"I'm angry that they – that _Puck_ didn't do anything to change their minds. But I'm even more scared that you may leave me to go with them anyway, and I can't bear to loose you now," she said, running her thumbs under the girl's eyes to gently swipe away an errant tear.

Before Rachel could even think about reacting physically – her emotional reactions were pretty much off the charts – Quinn had already pulled her into a hug that somehow ended with Rachel sitting sideways in her lap. Rachel just wanted to be alone for a while after receiving all this information, but Quinn didn't let go. "I don't want to go on without my little Monster," Quinn whispered, and Rachel lost her fight all at once. Quinn had said it with such vulnerability that she felt as if she was imposing on one of her private thoughts. Never had she imagined that the dependency she experienced could be mutual.

"Oh, Quinn," she breathed, pressing her face against the side of a pale neck. She tried to find words, because Quinn was finally opening up, but her thoughts kept backing up into what the blonde had said. She was smitten with her and sounded all around protective. It felt simply wonderful, because, despite her initial hesitance and fears, she could believe Quinn.

Rachel backed away to catch Quinn's wonderfully expressive eyes before pressing a sweet, slow kiss to her lips. She really would have liked to pour her emotions into the kiss, to show the woman how much she appreciated her, but all she could focus on was how soft and pliant and cool – always cool – Quinn felt against her. Trying to pry her lips open to deepen the kiss had the adverse effect, however, and Quinn pulled away with a shuddering sigh.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asked, taking the opportunity to make herself more comfortable by shifting a leg so that she was properly straddling Quinn.

Quinn followed her movements with slightly widened eyes, giving the impression of a cornered animal as she backed into the wall. But Rachel didn't fully realize what kind of vibe her actions gave off as she wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck. The truth was that Rachel had no sexual intentions so she didn't think twice about it. Not until Quinn's eyes flickered up to meet hers and she could _see _the effect she was having on the woman. Aside from the smouldering hazel eyes gazing back at her, there was also a pair of very telling canines peeking through her parted lips.

"I," Quinn started, snapping Rachel out of simply fascinating thoughts. She swallowed. "I've also been having trouble resisting… temptation," Quinn continued in such a hesitant, almost twitchy manner that Rachel couldn't describe her as anything less than flustered.

"What temptation?" Her eyes flickered down to those pointed canines, and the only thing that kept her from reaching out and touching them was the vague notion that Quinn needed her mouth to speak.

In a show of confidence, Quinn instilled some life in her arms and ran them down Rachel's clothed back, pulling her in closer. This had the desired effect of catching Rachel's attention again. With such intense eyes focused on her, Rachel didn't stand a chance in looking away. "Your warmth," she responded breathily, hands finding their way up underneath a thick sweater. The chilled flesh – as if those hands had been pressed up against cool glass – sent a shiver up Rachel's spine. "I find myself wanting to," hazel eyes dropped down to what was visible of Rachel's neck, "devour you."

Rachel swallowed, almost unable to breathe in the heavy atmosphere. "In what way?" she asked, against her better judgement. She would have been so much safer thinking that Quinn simply wanted to feed off her.

"All of them," Quinn responded immediately, eyes snapping up again. "Rachel, I want you in all the ways, but I don't want this to be the second time. It can never be over," she added with a hint of desperation.

To Rachel, those were the most beautiful words ever spoken, and for a moment, she lost the capacity to think. In an effort to mask her loss of IQ, she trailed her hands up Quinn's nape and into blonde hair before they came to rest upon pale cheeks. Then, without any preamble, the answer came to her. "Don't take too much, and we can count it as the first and a half."

Quinn couldn't seem to get a grasp on her composure, staring at Rachel with such admiration that it made the brunette feel like she was someone else entirely. She appeared to want to say something, but forwent words to kiss the woman before her instead. It started out as a reassuring press of the lips, but the charged atmosphere didn't allow any slow, intimate exploration for long and quickly turned open-mouthed and needy.

Rachel found it a wonderful improvement when Quinn let her hands drop to her ass, tenderly running her fingers across the seams of her jeans. She just wished Quinn wouldn't treat her like glass. It wasn't nearly enough. If she were glass, then she would still want to shatter. Surprisingly, her prayer was heard as Quinn started palming those curves with a welcome amount of pressure.

There was a permanent sharpness present in Quinn's mouth that made it hard for Rachel to take control of the situation, forcing her to go at a pace that was slower than she would have liked. So she whimpered her helplessness, purposefully running her tongue along a row of sharp teeth.

Quinn froze at the action, jaw unhinging as Rachel carefully stroked a canine. Momentarily, Rachel was worried she broke some unwritten vampire rule, but was reassured when Quinn moaned out a breathy, "Sensitive," before roughly pulling Rachel closer and firmly massaging the globes of her ass, deepening the kiss to the point that it made Rachel's blood boil.

The kiss scorched her insides all the way to the tips of her fingers, turning her sweater into a thick, suffocating layer of wool. It was sweaty and great, but she needed glorious. And the only way she could think of achieving that, was to get rid of the obstructive heat and get those cool hands on her. Quinn was of similar thought, if the hands wandering up her bare back were any indication. So, with a great deal of effort, she leaned back to detach herself. She was amused to find that Quinn followed her movement until she was arching her back uncomfortably – Quinn either unwilling or unaware that she was trying to break the kiss – until the only thing keeping her from falling over was Quinn's assuring grip. Eventually, she was able to create distance between them long enough to rip the confining sweater from her torso.

Rachel was in no state of mind to realize how much she just exposed herself, because Quinn's demeanour kept shifting from one extreme to the other and those eyes sucked her in every single time. Hazel eyes peered into her, opposed to all the skin she just revealed, and that just made her feel even safer. It made her want to embrace and kiss the woman, made her want to give more than she was offering. "Can I?" Quinn asked in a whisper, breathing the words against Rachel's lips.

The fact that she asked, simply _asked,_ even though she threw every nonverbal permission out there—

Well.

"Yes," Rachel hissed, tangling her hands in blonde hair once again. "A million times yes."

Quinn's hands may have been moving – around her sides, up her stomach – but she kept her gaze locked with Rachel's, kept sharing sweetened breaths. A certain wonder painted across her face as skin prickled wherever her fingers trailed, and Rachel couldn't decide whether she liked or loved the difference in temperature. Through careful touches, the cold lapped at her in the most magnificent of ways, calming her heated skin and creating gooseflesh in the strangest places. Before those hands had even reached her breasts, her nipples had already pebbled to an almost painful degree due to the cold.

Quinn smiled sheepishly once she cupped sensitive flesh, and Rachel would've been embarrassed, except this was _Quinn_. "Cold?" she asked, her eyes dark as she ran her tongue along the upper row of her teeth.

Rachel could only nod before Quinn reached up and captured another kiss. The thought that Quinn's hands were slowly turning warmer briefly flashed through her mind, but then those fingers started moving. They circled and teased, and God, it felt really, _really_ good. She couldn't help the tiny whimper that escaped her at a particular wonderful teasing pinch.

Quinn eagerly swallowed the sound, yet all but snapped once Rachel instinctively rolled her hips down into her. She released a growl, dropping her hands to circle her arms around the other woman before lifting her up and laying her back on the ground.

The movement was rough and quick, but Rachel didn't feel the harsh bite of the carpeted floor. She only barely realized that she was now lying horizontal before a mouth was latched onto her neck. There was no piercing pain, however, just the press of an open mouth. Regaining her senses somewhat, she noticed that Quinn had tensed all over, almost as if in an attempt to reign in her instincts. It wasn't until she heard a low, tortured whine that she realized that was, in fact, the case.

Rachel took a steadying breath, running what she hoped was a comforting hand through blonde hair. She knew what was about to come, but she wasn't sure she'd ever be prepared for it. "It's okay."

With those words, Quinn flexed her jaw, piercing through skin.

And it hurt. It hurt _so good_.

* * *

><p><strong>BAM, FADEOUT to Puck twiddling his thumbs in the next room. I actually feel bad for him, but the plot must go on!<strong>

**I've made a bit of a mess in this chapter, as some of my tumblr followers could tell. But I won't bore you with the details. The last scene _will be continued in the next chapter_, though. So don't worry about the sudden ending.**

**Also, don't tell your hairdresser to go wild, even if you're feeling lucky.**

**Much love,  
><strong>**Plush**

**Alice Kuran; **Oh wow. Um. Thank you xD  
><strong>Gleefulness; <strong>Ohey, look. I included Puck's reaction. I will go more into detail about his reaction next chapter though. This was just the comic relief.  
><strong>Rioshix; <strong>LOL. It wasn't my intention to draw attention to the differences, but I suppose, yeah.  
><strong>4wingeddinosaur; <strong>I think my favourite reviews now include excited squealing, hahaha. Thank you :)  
><strong>Lauraluvscasey; <strong>Oh, that's an interesting thought. The feeding, I mean. I think I might work with that.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Rachel wasn't quite aware that she had missed out the previous time she had been bitten. She had considered herself lucky even, because something as unholy as that could not end well, however great it felt during. She'd been sadly mistaken.

Quinn, true to her word, withdrew her teeth from the wound in her neck after only a few gulps. Opposed to last time, Rachel had stopped herself from being swept away by certain feelings, and Quinn didn't seem nearly as hungry as the last time, so it was smooth sailing as of yet.

Rachel felt a tongue lap sweetly at her neck, followed by the familiar pull of her skin knitting together. Quinn groaned at the loss, touching a few kisses to the tender skin, making Rachel giggle unexpectedly.

It was certainly unexpected on Rachel's part, for she seemed to have lost most of the control over her body. Her hands, previously gripping at Quinn in earnest, now lay limp next to her shoulders, her head lolling to the side. She felt sluggish and heavy, but if she focused hard enough, she could tilt her head back to look at Quinn, who had lifted herself from the crook of her neck to look at her with a small, amused smile painted on her lips.

"The dumbstruck feeling will disappear in a moment," Quinn whispered, eyes still full with intention as she noted Rachel's muted distress. "It happens with everyone I bite," she continued to explain quietly, leaning forward to nuzzle Rachel's cheek. "I guess it comes in handy for unsuspecting victims."

Rachel wanted to speak, ask who else she had bitten, or better yet, continue what they were doing, but all that left her lips was a barely there whimper. At that, Quinn backed away again, shooting her a sympathetic look.

"Sorry." Quinn wrapped her arms around Rachel's torso and lifted her up. Thankfully, Rachel's reflex to wrap her arms around the blonde's neck broke through. It was a relief in so far that the stupefied feeling was wearing off already. "I should have told you about this before I bit you," she said, working an arm underneath Rachel's legs to carry her over to the bed. She put her down on the soft surface, then lay down next to her.

Rachel turned onto her side, coming face to face with a content looking Quinn.

"Just a little while," Quinn mumbled, eyes drooping sleepily.

It was then that Rachel remembered that Quinn hadn't slept for the past few days. As much as Quinn claimed not to need sleep, she looked all kinds of borderline comatose now.

Rachel watched Quinn nod off, not even trying to move and attempt to keep the other woman awake. She could only smile as Quinn fell asleep, her breathing halting all together.

After a few minutes, Rachel sat up. Her head felt a little fuzzy still, but at least she could move of her own volition now. She blinked the fuzziness away, only now noticing a certain crucial aspect of her being. The state of undress she was in.

Her face warmed as she covered herself up, even though nobody conscious was around to see her. With a tiny frown at her own behaviour, she fished her shirt from the floor and slipped it back on. She was about to pull the striped sweater over her head as well, but halted midway. She threw a look at the slumbering woman, and instead draped the wool over her.

Quinn made no move to acknowledge the action.

She was by all means dead to the world, Rachel thought with a chuckle.

She made sure Quinn was still asleep – _just in case_ – and pressed one last kiss to the blonde's forehead before getting up to confront Puck. Maybe she needed time to think things over, to decide on what she was going to say, but all she really wanted was to see Puck's face and… and… have him apologize?

She wasn't sure. No amount of apologizing was going to make her forget about the death sentence they forced upon her. All she knew was that she had to hear his side of the story.

Not sure what she was going to face, she stepped into the main room. Puck immediately turned around on the couch to look at Rachel, his attempt to be subtle as he checked out the girl's neck failing horribly.

She raised a hand to her neck self-consciously, trailing her fingers along the spotless skin. It still tingled whenever she thought about what happened.

"Did she tell you?" Puck asked carefully.

Rachel simply nodded in reply as she averted her eyes. The knot in her stomach was even tenser than she thought it would be. Puck was still Puck, the socially awkward friend, which made the betrayal that much worse.

"If it makes you feel any better, Quinn first greeted me with a kidney shot." He laughed uncomfortably, quickly silencing when he noticed that his joke didn't have the desired effect of lightening up the mood. Rachel shifted her weight from one foot to the other, waiting for _something_ to happen. Puck cleared his throat at the following silence.

"Look, Rachel," he began, turning more fully towards her and leaning an arm on the back of the couch. "We were a bunch of scared, underfed kids. I know it won't make up for what we did, but I'm sorry we went all Hitler on your musically apt behind."

She smiled feebly at his comparison. It made a strange amount of sense, and it was probably the best thing he could've said, but it would never make up for what they did. "Wouldn't that mean you were next on the list?" she asked, trying to crack a joke herself, but mainly coming across as hollow.

"Yeah, well, look at where I am now. We should give Quinn a freaking medal or something." He chuckled quietly. She could see him running a hand through his hair nervously from the corner of her eye. "They thought it may solve at least some of their troubles, but it stirred some shit up, y'know? We may have been quiet as Finn and Santana snapped, but I don't think anyone of us doesn't regret it." With no visible response forthcoming, he continued, "Finn's all messed up now, and Santana still claims it's better this way, but we all know better. You have no idea how happy I am that Brittany is there, because shit, she's barely hanging on. We're _all_ barely hanging on."

Rachel took a deep, steadying breath. "I—I think… I'm tired. I'm going to take a nap."

Puck watched her turn around, but before she disappeared entirely, he called after her, "I'll save you the canned pineapple slices."

Rachel didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

* * *

><p>Quinn felt like she'd been swimming through mud when she woke up. Granted, it was a very human metaphor for her to use, but it sounded better than thinking she'd been swimming through molten lead. Or something. She'd probably never get used to waking up like that. It always felt like her soul was trying to escape her undead body while unconscious. Whatever the case, the feeling dissipated as soon as she became aware of her surroundings.<p>

Her arm was in the process of being lifted up as a weight settled next to her, preparing to no doubt snuggle into her. Quinn didn't even need to breathe or open her eyes to know it was Rachel. The other woman was sniffling quietly as she settled against her, draping the lifeless arm around her waist. If it didn't sound like Rachel was crying, she'd have found the entire situation beyond adorable.

Rachel nuzzled her nose into her collar, curling into a ball and slipping partially under the sweater that was draped over her.

Scratch that. Rachel could be threatening her life as she cuddled up to Quinn and she'd think it was adorable.

"Where'd you go?" Quinn asked, voice raspy. She waited a beat, then, with a stupid grin that was no doubt caused by a full metaphorical stomach and severe sleep deprivation, "I missed you so. Feels like it's been forever since you've been gone."

Rachel breathed a watery laugh, further burying herself into Quinn's embrace. "I went to the other room, not off to war, you dummy."

Quinn knew there was a reason why going into the other room was kind of dangerous , she just couldn't get a grip on the specific explanation at the moment. Her body may not need the sleep, but her mind sure as hell did. "Isn't that the same thing?" she asked, pulling the warm body closer to her own. The way Rachel breathed against her sternum felt heavenly. She could just lay here and soak up the warmth Rachel had to offer all day long. Except she couldn't, because of reasons. Reasons that kept slipping away from her. "You feel good," she slurred, pressing her lips against Rachel's forehead. Everything about Rachel was so nice and warm. "Can we stay in bed longer?"

At that, Rachel extracted herself from her arms, and Quinn was forced to open her eyes. Reddened eyes gazed at her from underneath a worried frown. Quinn immediately wondered if she was hurt, but a deep breath didn't reveal any smells that might indicate open wounds. No, instead she got a big gulp of simply Rachel. "Are you okay?" Rachel asked, still giving her a vague look.

If only her mind didn't feel so slippery, Quinn could answer the question. All she wanted to do now was, "Sleep." She smiled at the way Rachel was eying her. It should've been her who asked the question, so it was a strange role reversal. "I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell," she said with the slightest hint of a melody. "I know right now, you can't tell."

"Okay, that's it," Rachel said sternly. "As much as I can appreciate a properly placed song reference, from now on you are not allowed to stay awake for more than forty-eight hours at a time."

"Yes, ma'am," she said, wanting to salute, because that's what you did when you said that, but her hands were much better off on Rachel's back. God, Rachel was warm. She was nice too, and kind of quirky, which she thought would annoy her, but she liked that. She liked that a lot. Rachel was warm. She liked that too.

Rachel settled down with a deep sigh. "You two are impossible."

"You love me," Quinn said, adjusting her position again so that as much of her as possible was touching Rachel. It took a moment for her to realize that Rachel was talking about two individuals. There was another individual, she knew, that made the other room kind of dangerous. It had something to do with hockey.

"It pains me that you can state that as a fact even when severely deprived of sleep," Rachel said, more amused than anything.

All Quinn got from that was that 1) she said something funny, and 2) Rachel didn't say she loved her back. "You don't love me," she murmured, sounding so disappointed that she didn't recognize her own voice for a moment.

"Quinn?" Rachel appeared in her field of vision again, looking slightly reproachful. "Do me a favour and close your eyes."

"Do I get a kiss?" Quinn asked, the corners of her mouth twitching up into a smile. When people asked you to close your eyes, they usually meant to give you a surprise. Rachel was too nice to smack her upside the head for a surprise, and a kiss would be a nice gesture. Rachel's lips were warm, too. Hot, even. "I want to kiss."

Rachel chuckled, shaking her head. "I'll give you a kiss if you close your eyes afterwards."

"Yes," she answered, still smiling, vaguely aware that wasn't a proper response to what Rachel had said. But that hardly mattered when Rachel closed in the distance between them and pressed a kiss to her lips. Quinn held her eyes open because she promised not to close them yet, and found that Rachel looked kind of silly from this close. Silly, but still just as pretty. And warm. Wow, her lips were even warmer than she remembered. And it was even warmer inside. She only managed to briefly swipe her tongue along the inside of Rachel's scorching hot mouth before the woman pulled back.

Quinn looked on as Rachel licked her lips, and silently wished for another kiss. "Now close your eyes," Rachel encouraged gently. "And count to ten."

Quinn had no idea why Rachel was insisting she close her eyes like that, but she couldn't remember going past three the next time she woke up.

* * *

><p><strong>I dedicate this chapter to all the people who tell me to think warm thoughts when I'm cold. Lmao.<strong>

**Sorry for the short (crappy) chapter and such a long wait, you guys. I have no excuse.**

**Ever wondered why I reply at the end of a chapter? I'm hella lazy, that's why. Though I may reply personally next chapter. These replies take up too much space.**

**Much love,  
><strong>**Plush**

**Anonymous; **Why yes. Yes, you can.  
><strong>LilithL2; <strong> I had actually thought about it, because Beth would be all grown up, and holy hell, what's not interesting about _that_? And, well, I don't think they're the bad guys, but it was needed for the plot. Hope this chapter redeems them at least somewhat.  
><strong>Daisyorlena; <strong>Feel free to rant any time! And I admit, it was unnecessarily harsh, but the plot must go on. You're entirely welcome though. And thank _you_ for reading :P  
><strong>Courios-Anon; <strong>I don't plan it to be longer than 20 chapters. That's, like, the limit to my attention span. And, hahahahahaha—sorry. I mean, Rachel wants Quinn. IQ looks like Quinn. Rachel's subconscious takes advantage of the opportunity and that's why IQ harasses Rachel. So yeah, there's some desire reflecting going on.  
><strong>RiTS; <strong>Let me just write your review in the next hour or so, lmao.  
><strong>Labmama; <strong>Canon!Quinn scares me.  
><strong>AngelFFXmaniac; <strong>The buildup, you say. Brb, cackling conspicuously.  
><strong>Maru-jayjay; <strong>Oh wow, that is some major dedication. Thanks ;D And you can review in Spanish, entiendo español (tambien hablo, pero soy perezosa). That's an interesting suggestion though, the Fabang friendship. I think you just gave me an idea.  
><strong>DreamingLittleThing; <strong>Pink reference? :P I see your avatar~  
><strong>Rioshix; <strong>Damn you for planting that idea in my head. I can't get rid of it now.  
><strong>Cedrus; <strong>Trolololol. I actually feel bad now. This chapter must be such a disappointment :P  
><strong>Nightcuddler; <strong>Theoretically, Quinn could make Rachel a vampire. That's all I'll say.

**Songs that Quinn used:  
><strong>**Fort minor – Where'd you go  
><strong>**Matchbox Twenty – Unwell**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Rachel had fallen asleep after Quinn finally stopped talking, which was weird, because retreating to the other room for a nap was really just an excuse to get away from Puck for a while. It had probably been a good thing, too. She didn't feel all that frazzled anymore, just kind of tired. The betrayal was still fresh on her mind, but so were thoughts about how she got the better end of the deal. If what Puck said was true, her friends had slowly been driven insane by their own cruel choice, while Rachel herself got to spend time with Quinn, the loveliest person she had met in this world of decay.

Karma was definitely at work here.

Rachel turned onto her other side and snuggled further into the pillow, not quite ready to get out of bed. Quinn had given her a taste of what life had been before the outbreak. Sure, there were still zombies here and there – a surprising little amount of encounters, even – but food was easy and she felt safe. Meeting Quinn was, dare she even think it, better than surviving with her previous acquaintances.

Rachel smiled a silly smile at the thought of Quinn and everything they had done together, burying her face into the pillow.

Her relaxing time was crudely interrupted by Puck's loud, pained shout, however. Rachel shot up immediately, quickly noting how Quinn was gone before she ran out of the room. She feared that Quinn had taken judgement into her own hands, even more so when she spotted Quinn standing over a crouched Puck.

"What the hell was that for?" Puck asked, teeth clattering. "Shit, that's cold."

"For my personal amusement, mostly," Quinn responded, dropping an empty bucket to her side and putting down another full one in front of Puck. "But you also reek so bad that I can't smell past you."

Rachel took a few more hesitant steps into the room. First, she noticed the big puddle of water on the floor surrounding Puck, and then how certain parts of Puck's wardrobe looked suspiciously darker in some places, along with his flattened, dripping haircut.

It was such a relief that Quinn didn't go all homicidal crazy on Puck, that she just—she just—

Both Quinn and Puck turned to look at Rachel as she released a loud, boisterous laugh. "I—I—Oh my God—my stomach." She bent forwards slightly as she held her stomach, continuing to laugh despite that it felt like she pulled some tiny obscure muscle. Once she gathered some composure, she caught Puck's reluctant amusement and Quinn's dopey smile.

_Wait, what?_

Rachel was trying to figure out what had changed in Quinn for her to suddenly seem dopey instead of her usual annoyingly charming self when Puck interrupted her thought process, "Okay, yeah, I deserved that."

Rachel shot him a sympathetic look as he slipped off his sticky shirt and attempted to wring the water out. He still looked just as thin as when she last saw him a few weeks ago. "Did you get him something else to wear?" Rachel asked Quinn, turning hesitant eyes to the blonde.

Quinn rolled her eyes at Puck's pout, picking up a plastic bag near the reinforced door. "You owe me," she told the man, throwing the bag at Puck, who barely caught it in time and proceeded to pull out soap and simple clothes. Once Quinn sidled back up next to Rachel, she muttered for just her to hear, "I just wanted him to get clean, not a pneumonia."

It pulled a smile from Rachel. "I won't stop thinking your heart is in the right place," she whispered back, looking up into worried hazel eyes. She nudged Quinn playfully. "Do I owe you now, too?" she asked with a chuckle.

It was meant as a joke, but they had been together primarily because of the bargain they had stricken on day one, and suddenly, Rachel felt like she could hit herself upside the head for her insensitivity. Thankfully, Quinn didn't think that much of her comment, and simply smiled and shook her head. "Never."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm going to be on the end of a lot of pranks these coming days?" Puck asked from his place on the ground, interrupting the moment. A dark purple Power Rangers shirt was lying in his lap.

Rachel reacted automatically. "I can assure you that I'm not planning to do anything. I will never forgive what you all did to me, and I certainly won't ever forget it. But despite the fact that you have permanently damaged my ability to trust you, I still believe that we should preserve as much life and joy as possible." She breathed in. Yeah, she'd been thinking about this alright. "That being said, I can't be held accountable for Quinn's actions."

Puck shifted uncomfortable as he looked at Quinn, urging Rachel to look over at the woman as well. Quinn was smirking at Puck in a mischievous, borderline evil manner. To Rachel, it looked all kinds of staged. "Quinn!" she chastised, laughing.

"What?" Quinn asked, snapping out of it. "You lost me somewhere around 'torturing Puck is okay, as long as it's funny'."

Puck shook his head in amused disbelief, and got up from the floor, starting to undo his jeans. "You guys? I'd like to clean up and change now."

Rachel huffed, vaguely registering Puck's voice but not hear what he was saying. "Be that as it may, there is a fine line between pain and pleasure, and I hope that you don't cross any unnecessary boundaries."

"Is there now?" Quinn asked, leaning in ever so slightly and smiling predatorily.

Rachel sighed in mock exasperation. "Quinncorrigible."

"You guys!" Puck tried again.

"What?" they asked simultaneously, noticing his hands on his pants just in time to get the hint and turn around. Puck hadn't pulled anything down before they both faced away, but still Quinn squinted as if something was stuck in her eye. "I think I've gone partially blind," she muttered.

Rachel shot her a sideward glance and breathed a laugh. "At least try to be nice, Quinn."

"Oh, come on," Puck protested as he stepped out of his jeans, secretly glad that Rachel was still able to be friendly in his presence. "I'm still PG rated," he added, presenting himself in his boxer briefs even though nobody was looking. "Though I may not be for long…"

"Oh. Oh God." Quinn's eyes ran over the safe half of the room, trying to find a way out. "I think I saw a pack of cards in the bedroom, Rachel. Feel like playing a game?"

"Now that you mention it, I have been kind of wanting to—"

"_Great!_" Quinn gripped her hand and practically dragged her to the bedroom. They could vaguely hear Puck's snicker before they closed the door.

"Aren't you supposed to be forty-something? Weathered and sober when it comes to the human body?" Rachel asked through her amusement.

"Technically, I am." Quinn moved across the room and sat down on the bed. "But I was taken at graduation—or at least I assume so, because that's the last memory I have before I woke up during the riots."

"You mean the riots at the beginning of the outbreak?" Rachel asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible before Quinn suddenly realized the gravity of the conversation. Last time, she pretty much closed off immediately. Quinn nodded. "So that makes you eighteen," Rachel mused out loud, joining Quinn on the bed.

"Pretty much." Quinn's eyes then widened in horror. "Oh God. You're not older than I, are you?"

Rachel bit her lower lip to keep from smiling smugly, and was only partially successful as she nodded her head. Quinn groaned and hid her face in her hands. "I was only twenty, Quinn, barely starting my new life in New York. You're acting like I'm some kind of paedophile who's thirty years older."

"I know," Quinn murmured into her hands. "But I'm supposed to be the cool vampire. I mean, have you ever heard about a younger vampire in a mortal relationship?"

"For what it's worth, I don't think you look eighteen at all. Maybe more like twenty-five. Besides, even if you didn't, you still have twenty years on me." Rachel cleared her throat to hide her laugh. "Technically."

"Bite me, Berry," she said, smiling into her hands. The playfulness in Rachel's replies was too obvious. She removed her face from her hands, frowning thoughtfully. "Didn't you say you've been travelling with a pair of cheerleaders from high school though?"

"Brittany and Santana? Yeah. We were attacked during a reunion and stuck together from thereon." She grimaced at the memory, then turned to Quinn. "You said you woke up somewhere?"

Quinn pressed her lips together briefly, and for a moment, Rachel thought she was going to change the subject or stop the conversation all together, but instead she continued talking, albeit more fidgety than usual and with averted eyes. "In a lab or a hospital, I think. Someone drove their SUV into my room, and I was hooked up to all these machines, so maybe something malfunctioned and woke me up. The driver was dead and all the doors were locked, so I had no way of knowing where I was. Instinct kind of just took over from there and all I knew was that I had to get out."

Rachel watched the tension seep into her form, and carefully placed a hand on Quinn's back. Quinn jumped slightly at the contact, but gradually eased into it. "I was bitten as soon as I set foot on the street, so I found out pretty fast that I was immune for some reason. A boy on a bike kind of picked me up and…" At this point, Quinn pulled herself out of the memory, and looked everywhere but at Rachel.

"Did you hurt him?" Rachel guessed cautiously.

"No." Quinn shook her head, turning her eyes to her hands that she'd been unconsciously wringing for a while now. "It was much worse. We became friends, even figured out my condition together, and, long story short, he picked a group of human survivors over me."

Rachel stilled, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. _That's_ why Quinn had been so adamant about keeping her to herself. "Oh, Quinn," she breathed, wrapping her other arm around the woman and meeting her other hand on Quinn's hip, hugging the woman sideways. She felt like she should be saying something to assure Quinn that she wasn't going anywhere, but at the same time it felt obsolete. Their relationship was the only one that went on unsullied by treachery. And, strangely enough, that didn't even sound like an exaggeration. "You're mine now," Rachel said eventually, resting her chin on Quinn's shoulder.

Quinn turned to shoot her an amused look. "Am I now?"

"Definitely." Rachel nodded her head, keeping a straight face. "You're like my guard dog. One that turns into a puppy near its master."

An eyebrow rose sharply. "You did not just call me a puppy."

"It's a compliment, I assure you. Canines are fiercely loyal and are generally considered dangerous in the right circumstances. Also, opposed to cats, they tend to wait a week before eating their owner after they die. I can appreciate such dedic—_AH_—tion." Rachel was flipped onto her back by a playfully growling Quinn before she knew what had happened. She giggled once she realized that Quinn was hovering over her in what should've been a threatening manner.

"Don't laugh at me, woman," Quinn protested, only managing the opposite effect. Maybe if she hadn't been smiling through her threat it could've worked. "I could snap you like a twig."

Rachel knew it was true, but, well.

"You're so cute when you're trying to establish your dominance," Rachel cooed, bringing her hands up to briefly ruffle Quinn's immaculate choppy hair before cupping her cheeks in a way that reminded her of how her grandma used to treat her.

Quinn's following smile was blinding. Her eyes glimmered, flashing both her upper and lower teeth with the giddy smile, and despite that her canines were all too obvious, Rachel found that Quinn had never looked more human. "I'm not a dog," she protested once more. Rachel wanted to retaliate by pointing out how Quinn reacted to being ruffled, but before she could, Quinn said, "If I was, I wouldn't be able to do this."

And Rachel wholeheartedly agreed that Quinn was not an animal, because animals most definitely did not kiss her like Quinn did. As those lips slid against her own, she even conceded that Quinn must not be human at all. No, with all those pleasant, fluttery, mushy feelings that she kept experiencing, Quinn must be super-human.

She couldn't even remember what they were talking about.

Quinn moaned into her mouth as the kiss intensified, a tongue slipping past her open lips.

Or her name.

"No, stop. Wait." Rachel extracted herself with the greatest difficulty, fisting the material of Quinn's shirt as she pushed her away. Quinn shot her a worried look, but backed away as far as Rachel allowed her, which wasn't very far. "You can't start something that you won't finish."

"But we were just kissing," Quinn said, not entirely comprehending.

"I don't know if it's your vampire pheromones on steroids, your increasing levels of ridiculous beauty, the full moon, or the freaking _stars_ _aligning_," Rachel hissed, while Quinn's eyes seemed to widen in understanding. "But you turn me on like Christmas lights in December, so if you start undressing me and I _don't_ reach some kind of climax, I swear to God, I will go into that bathroom and masturbate until I can't walk straight."

It took a moment for Quinn to remember to shut her mouth. Or breathe. And maybe swallow.

Rachel raised her eyebrows expectantly, and then Quinn tried to form words, but failed to produce any sounds. That coaxed a smile from Rachel. Quinn may be able to temporarily paralyze her with a bite, but all she needed were her words. "Oh, just come here," she said with a playful eye roll, pulling Quinn down and allowing their lips to meet sweetly.

After a moment of hesitation, Quinn relaxed into it and returned the kiss.

Maybe she'd been going at it all wrong, Rachel thought. She had been assuming Quinn would be the one to excel in sexuality, but unless Quinn was lost in the moment, she didn't seem particularly invested in getting into Rachel's pants. She devoted all her time to squirming her way into her heart, sure, but pants? Not so much.

It was time to take matters into her own hands.

Quite literally.

Quinn jolted when Rachel slipped her hands underneath the blonde's shirt. "Is this okay?" Rachel asked in between kisses, even as she marvelled at the feel of Quinn's stomach. Her abs were hard as granite, no conscious Twilight reference intended, and she briefly wondered if it would sound like knocking on wood if she rapped her knuckles against them.

Quinn hummed her reply, even going as far as deepening the kiss, but then laughed as Rachel started pressing rather oddly into her stomach. "What are you doing?"

"This is physically impossible," Rachel commented, tilting her head down to catch a glimpse of Quinn's stomach. "These muscles shouldn't feel like steel and still be as pliant as they are." She furrowed her eyebrows together as her hands trailed up her ribs and revealed more perfectly toned flesh. "Maybe we should turn off the lights before we continue. This is going to give me an inferiority complex for sure."

Quinn bit her lower lip to keep from smiling too big. "Rachel?" Rachel looked up, traces of scientific wonder disappearing as she caught on to Quinn's amusement. "You are the most adorable human being I've ever met."

Rachel's eyebrows raised in disbelief. "You really think so?" she whispered, suddenly having lost her voice.

Quinn nodded, eyes alight with mischievousness. "Maybe you're the puppy instead."

"Can we not talk about being animals? This is giving me some mental images that I'd rather live without," she said, grimacing at the almost sacrilegious images that were flitting through her mind. She could deal with corpses walking around, didn't mind the eating of corpses by other corpses because that's how the world worked right now, but those poor, poor puppies—no, she wasn't going there. "Besides, I clearly have the upper hand."

"Oh?"

Rachel wriggled the fingers on Quinn's ribs, fully expecting the woman to jump into the ceiling with laughter, but sadly disappointed when Quinn only looked down at her expectantly. Then, realizing what Rachel had been attempting to do, snickered. "Oh, that's just unfair," Rachel pouted. Not one for giving up, however, she ran her hands down Quinn's sides in search of a ticklish spot.

"Hey, how's the game going—_whoa_." Puck had opened the door, caught a glimpse of the scene before him, and promptly smacked the door shut in his face again with a painful sounding whack. Rachel and Quinn turned to the sudden intrusion. "I didn't see anything!" he yelled, followed by a barely audible _ow_. "It's just that I'm making dinner—not that you should hurry! I mean, take your time. Just not all night long, 'cause a man needs to eat!" He laughed awkwardly, then quickly cleared his throat. "Right. Okay. Have fun. Bye."

A moment.

Quinn snorted a laugh, while Rachel just looked at the door uncomprehendingly. Puck, giving them privacy to do sexy things to each other? Who was this man and what had he done to Butterfingers?

* * *

><p>Eventually, they decided to join Puck for dinner because Rachel couldn't get the image of zombie puppies out of her head. Quinn was mostly sitting with them for decoration purposes while they ate, because mighty vampire or not, she was still only functioning on a few hours of sleep. There hung an odd friendliness in the air, with Rachel sitting between Quinn's legs and Puck flamboyantly serving dinner as if it were a three course meal. Rachel wrote it off as Puck trying to earn his redemption by not making any rude remarks and acting more genuine. As soon as Rachel put down her empty can of SpaghettiOs, Quinn took this as her cue, and – against Rachel's protests – chugged their trash into a plastic bag.<p>

Rachel couldn't stop her eyes from straying down when Quinn bent over to put the bag down near the door. It was a completely normal reaction to Quinn's above par anatomy, but when she noticed Puck's head tilt to the side from the corner of her eyes, she elbowed him in the ribs and shot him a scolding look. He promptly averted his eyes to the floor and held up his hands in surrender.

Once Quinn headed for the bedroom, claiming to go to bed, and _appeared_ to be out of earshot, Puck made a remark about Quinn's dishevelled appearance and what a _dawg_ that made Rachel.

Rachel rolled her eyes at Quinn's obnoxiously loud laughter.

* * *

><p><strong>Me: "Yeah, Quinn and Rachel are totally in their late twenties."<br>****Plot: "Hahaha, no."**

**Is it just me or does the pacing of this story seem a bit slow?**

**Okay, I said I wasn't going to reply at the end of the chapter. Does anyone even care? I mean, if nobody cares, it's a lot less effort for me to just reply here.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

_Last time, in Eat or Die: Puck, Rachel, and Quinn are still on their way to Salvation, wondering if they'll ever see the others again. Their journey seems to be faring smoothly so far, with Puck trying to repent for allowing Rachel to be abandoned._

_A/N: The USTs are pagebreaks._

Rachel woke up with a kink in her back, which she mostly managed to ignore because they'd been sleeping in strange places practically continuously. What was hard to ignore was how certain parts of her anatomy suddenly felt more sensitive. At first she blamed it on the stiffness that came from sleeping in the same position all night long – Quinn just looked so darned cute sleeping like that – but after walking a mile or so, Puck made an offhanded comment about her being more uptight than usual even though she'd played a very relaxing game of 'cards' the previous night. Rachel had looked at Quinn for confirmation, and when she received a questioning look, Rachel knew it to be true.

Her expression distorted into one of horror as she drew her conclusion.

The mysterious aches that seemed to make her kind of moody – she was going to have her period soon.

She couldn't not tell Quinn. By all means, she could even smell what would be going on. But what if the smell drove her insane? Quinn really liked sinking her teeth into her, let alone if there was a constant scent to remind her of temptation. What if she couldn't resist stripping her naked and feasting on her? That would be simply— simply wondrous, actually.

Even if that wasn't the case and Quinn could cope, it would mean awkward sexy situations in the next few couple of days.

She couldn't decide what was worse.

Rachel shook off the thought. Fantasies could wait until bedtime. Whatever the case, Quinn needed to be prepared.

So when Puck disappeared around a corner to 'take a leak,' Rachel shuffled closer Quinn.

"Hi."

Quinn turned her attention away from the road and looked at Rachel with a smile. "Hi."

"I need to talk to you," Rachel said quietly, just in case Puck finished fast and was about to round the corner.

The smile fell from Quinn's lips and she adopted a more serious expression. "What is it?"

"Um." Rachel shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to find her words, before realizing how silly she was being. There were more embarrassing things out there than being a woman. She stared down Quinn, who appeared to be suppressing a smile by now, with confidence. "As you know, I am a fertile young woman in the prime of her life." Quinn coughed out a laugh, but Rachel ignored her in favour of handing over the life or death information. "And my period is approaching."

Quinn was still smiling when she said, "Oh, okay. Do you need tampons? Or do you prefer pads?"

"What? That's it?" Rachel shot her an incredulous, yet somehow also relieved look. "You won't feel the need to snap my neck and rip out my throat?"

Blonde eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Why would I—oh. Oh." She awkwardly averted her eyes for a moment. "Rachel, I'm not really into that. That's not, y'know, all blood. It would taste funny. Besides, I just fed."

"So you wouldn't be overcome by the spontaneous urge to suck me dry?"

Quinn, previously fidgeting in place, stopped all movement and stared into space as if caught up in a thought. Rachel wondered if, judging by Quinn's slackened facial expression, the sexy moments wouldn't be that awkward after all. Finally, once it appeared as if the woman had gathered her wits again, Quinn glanced at Rachel with a bashful smile. "Not unless—Puck!" The blonde stiffened as Puck appeared from behind the corner.

Rachel wished she had a keyboard so she could smash it. She needed to know what drove Quinn insane with need! Purely for survival reasons, of course. If she was dying from arousal, only a needy Quinn could help her.

Puck paused as he looked at them both through narrowed, observant eyes. "I totally just interrupted something again, didn't I?"

_USTUSTUST_

"So when you said you weren't really into that," Rachel began, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible as she released the bow string – _head shot, final death, 30 points_.

They were waiting in front of the only entrance to an antique shop while Puck chose an appropriate silent weapon, despite his protests that antique guns were probably ten times louder than modern ones. The truth was that Quinn didn't know of any places nearby where they could get weapons, so they had to hope for the best.

Quinn stood next to her, looking as if she was seconds away from jumping in and killing the two remaining slowly, _oh so slowly_ approaching zombies. Rachel's voice snapped her out of her alertness momentarily. "Did you mean you – and excuse the unintentional pun – wouldn't be caught dead doing it or," Rachel reached back over her right shoulder and positioned it on the bow in a movement so smooth, it almost seemed practised, which it probably was, considering, "were you, perhaps, open to suggestion?"

Rachel saw Quinn palm her face from the corner of her eye, but, ever the professional, she kept her attention on the task at hand. "I'm only asking out of strictly necessary curiosity."

Well, mostly, anyway.

When Quinn's only response was to rub at her forehead, Rachel continued, "I mean, this could mean five whole days of potentially awkward situations if my ovaries decide that my hormone levels are entirely inappropriate." She pulled back the bow string and took aim, entirely missing Quinn's whine. "And while that doesn't necessarily require oral sex to—"

"Oh-my-God-_Rachel!_" Quinn interrupted hurriedly, removing the hand from her face in a borderline spastic gesture. Anything to keep her from talking.

Rachel released a particularly long breath, and released the bow string – _decapitation, final death, 50 points._ With only one undead (two, if you counted Quinn) left stumbling towards them, and one that seemed to miss a leg at that, Rachel glanced at Quinn. "I don't see how this should embarrass you, Quinn. We're simply discussing biology and preferences." She pulled out another arrow in a decidedly less elegant manner. Quinn looked slightly less frazzled at Rachel's reasoning, but still carried an air of being cornered. "I, for one, think it's an immensely attractive idea for you to go down on me, menstruation cycle or no. If you're likeminded, that would make me very happy. If you're not, I won't love you any less."

Quinn still seemed baffled into silence, so Rachel prepared the bow for another shot.

"I don't expect you to do anything I say, all I want is to know what you want."

Rachel released the string, and pouted when she hit the zombie in the shoulder and it tumbled over. Damn missing leg. She looked over at Quinn, who seemed to have calmed down and was now watching Rachel thoughtfully. It was a simple look that didn't carry that much meaning, if at all, but it still made Rachel shudder, because it meant Quinn was considering _things_.

"I scored these throwing knives, so I'll need a little practice, but I think my throwing arm—" Puck looked up from the belt of throwing knives he was tying around his waist and stopped in his tracks. The pair of women were still looking at each other. "Seriously?" He glanced between the two as they turned their attention on him. "I turn my back for maybe two minutes and—When _aren't_ you two having a moment?"

Maybe it had been the topic they'd been discussing before Puck interrupted that rendered them speechless, but both Quinn and Rachel didn't respond.

To Puck, those were a pair of accusing looks.

"Fine, fine." He vaguely waved away the imagined accusation. "The only time you're not having a moment is when I'm there. I get the hint."

_USTUSTUST_

Further down the road, Puck caught them holding hands, which was secretly a rather sensual caress of the palm quickly disguised as a more platonic hand hold by Quinn, and, unbeknownst to Rachel, Puck also caught Quinn's eyes wandering more than once.

Rachel wondered why Puck kept alternating between grins, pouts, and frowns the entire way to their next improvised hideout.

_USTUSTUST_

"Noah, you let us out right this instant." Rachel huffed, thumping the soft underside of her fist against the door. They may have chosen one of the empty homes as a temporary, makeshift safe house, but it was entirely uncalled for to be barred in one of the few bedrooms. It was a dangerous prank to pull. The odds may be slim, but what if the undead overran Puck?

"No. I'm not letting you guys out until you resolve that insane sexual tension. You're paying more attention to each other than the zombies, and I'm sick of catching you guys eyeing each other. You know how often that is? All. The. Time."

Rachel frowned at the closed door, and rested her hands in her sides. If Puck had been standing in front of her, it would've been the perfect chastising position. "I'll have you know that Quinn and I are very much capable of acting normally, thank you kindly."

"If acting normal consists of continuous eye-fucking. God," Puck muttered, barely loud enough for Rachel to hear.

"_Noah Puckerman!_" Rachel should've kept an eye on Quinn. If she had, she would've caught the way Quinn seemed to come to a decision; she would've caught the way the predatory side in her slowly grew in intensity. She would've had some time to prepare before Quinn approached her, every and all intentions dripping from the way she sashayed over, from the way her eyes grew darker and brighter all at the same time.

As it was, all Rachel noticed were the arms wrapping around her waist and a body pressing up against her back.

She lost her words.

"La la la, I can't hear you from all the way down the hall," Puck mocked from the other side of the door, his voice growing distant.

"I've been thinking," Quinn whispered, and if it hadn't been for the _entire situation_, Rachel would've cracked a joke about hoping that Quinn hadn't hurt herself in the process. "About what you said." All the humor left Rachel and then she was listening so carefully, she could hear her heart beat in her ears. "I think—I _know_ I want to—become more intimate with you."

Wait, did Rachel fall asleep again? She was pretty sure she hadn't hit any kind of bed since that morning.

"But I'd like to wait with anything too—too intimate," Quinn explained quietly, calmly. It was in complete contrast to the way those words were affecting Rachel. "I want to touch you, for now."

Oh, sweet merciful Jesus. Touching had never sounded so sexy before.

"First of all, I'd like to thank you for existing," Rachel began, immediately regretting her words and worried about how they might affect the mood. She had half a mind to turn her head to face Quinn, but Quinn's lips were pressed loosely against her ear and she was breathing and _nnngh_. "I mean, I'm glad you came to that decision, because I've been unresolved sexual tension on legs for a while now." Rachel tried to kick her brain in gear before she said anything stupid… er. "Puck is probably right. With how distracted we are, I mean. God knows he has some insane theories, but I agree with him on that part."

Quinn chuckled, and Rachel jumped slightly when she felt hands play with the hem of her sweater. "Of course," she breathed, making Rachel's ears burn. Quinn was probably talking in her usual, normal pitch, but she could probably do anything she wanted and it would turn Rachel on. Or blush. Or both. "I've noticed."

Being prepared as she was for cold hands, Rachel was pleasantly surprised to find that Quinn felt hot to the touch when the woman finally decided to slip her hands underneath her shirt. It was almost chemically so, but Rachel wasn't complaining. At all. "How—your hands?"

"It costs a little energy, but I figured out I can raise my body temperature the same way I can breathe."

Quinn was talking, she knew, but all she heard were pale hands moving up her stomach, fingers splaying across her skin. "Oh," she said, hoping she wasn't expected to give input on whatever Quinn just said. It felt like she was smiling against her ear, but Rachel lost all train of thought when hands cupped her breasts.

"You know, I can smell you. I can always smell you." Quinn was saying things. Soft things. Important, sexy things. "You smell like summer." Rachel tried to stay focused, but Quinn's hands were working their magic on her. It didn't help that Quinn nuzzled her hair or kept talking against her ear as if her words needed to make love to her eardrums. Why was she even speaking? "I can especially notice when you want me."

"If that were true, your hand would be down my pants right now," she muttered, hissing at the punishing nip at her ear.

"You're burning up," Quinn said, first pressing her lips against an ear and then her cheek. "Are you okay?"

Rachel groaned at the question. Of course she wasn't okay. She had gathered a whole lot of pent up sexual frustration and Quinn's merciless hands kept kneading and rolling and tugging. She was starting to wonder if maybe Quinn wasn't as sweet as she pretended to be.

Around the time that Rachel wondered if maybe she could do something about the situation, she realized she had hands that she could use to help progress the situation; which she then used to lower one of Quinn's hands. It went along willingly until it reached the edge of her jeans.

"You're like the sun," Quinn murmured in amusement, slowly undoing the jeans. "Hot and glowing."

"_Quinn_," Rachel growled.

"And dangerous," she said with a chuckle. She proceeded to unbutton Rachel's jeans singlehandedly, which wasn't going as smooth as Rachel would've liked, but it was progress, and as much as she needed different things from Quinn right now, she also liked to hear her say these things. "You may have your preferences, but your warmth is absolutely addictive. It's like," a pause to allow thought, "touching the sun." A hand slipped into the front of her pants, pressing against her through her panties.

Rachel was unable to resist rolling her hips into the touch, raising her unoccupied hand to tangle in Quinn's hair. "Inside," she pleaded. The pressure was nice in so much that it promised relief – sweet, sweet relief – but it was mostly just driving her to the brink of madness because it wasn't nearly enough.

Quinn hovered over her shoulder, nudging the side of Rachel's face with her nose. "Let me kiss you." She revelled in the warmth of Rachel's breath against her lips as she turned her head to the side. Everything about her was deliciously warm.

Quinn looked down at her, lips parting to no doubt liken her to the sun some more, but Rachel cut her off with a tender kiss before she could say anything. The hand slipped up again, then continued its path downward until it disappeared completely under her panties and reached its destination. Quinn deepened the kiss and pressed herself closer to Rachel.

Oh. Oh, okay.

Barely able to make coherent thoughts, Rachel briefly remembered comparing herself to glass, and she awaited the moment where she would shatter eagerly. Quinn's fingers rubbing at her center were like oscillating a wine glass, and she could feel the pressure building up toward her breaking point.

"This is better than touching the sun," Quinn murmured as she curled two fingers upward and pressed them into Rachel. Rachel knew something was wrong with that comparison, but all she could do was melt back against Quinn with a moan and arch into her arms. Her lips were still parted, brushing against hers with each smooth movement, and she kissed her again briefly.

Rachel exhaled a shuddery breath and, as that voice made her blood run even warmer, ever so sweeter, considered that perhaps Quinn's words were affecting her more than her actions. Her hips rocked back and forth to match Quinn's movements, and she listened to the almost painfully pleasant ring that her voice created throughout her body.

People should've written songs about that.

Even the unmistakable sound of fabric ripping wasn't enough to draw her out of this bliss and she reached behind her, entangling her fingers in Quinn's hair.

"Not enough room," Quinn mumbled, trying to move her hand so she could keep up with the steady pace. There wasn't much space between Rachel and the fabric of her pants. "Take off your jeans." She slowed her fingers but a soft tug on her hair made her pick up speed again in a fraction of a second.

With all the built up tension, Rachel was on the edge very quickly. She leaned her head back against Quinn's shoulder, thoughts about this resembling being bitten flitting through her mind, but dismissing those thoughts almost immediately again because this was much, much better. This didn't feel at all like her soul was being sucked out.

She inhaled sharply as Quinn's lips found her neck and tilted her head to the side to give her better access. The soft sucking against her pressure point was all she needed to send her over the edge completely. The release that took over her was enough to distract her from even Quinn's teeth as they scraped against her soft skin, and she moaned softly, the only sound that she could get out despite the slew of words that she wanted to. She couldn't remember sex being this good. Had it always been this good? Nothing had ever felt so good. Or had it?

Quinn slipped her hand out of Rachel's pants and wrapped her arms around her, grinning as Rachel slouched back against her, panting as she came down from her high. She took a glance behind her to make sure she was headed in the right direction, then led her to the bed and sat them down. As she noticed Rachel's neck, her wide grin turned into more of a sheepish smile. "Whoops."

Rachel's head lolled so that she could look up at her. "Hmn?"

"Hypothetically speaking, how adverse are you to having a hickey?" Quinn asked, raising her eyebrows hesitantly.

Rachel paused for a moment, and laughed. "You can make it up to me," she assured her, then leaned over and took a moment to kiss her before pulling back and looking her over. "You may start by taking off your shirt."

* * *

><p><strong>That awkward moment when you let a friend proof read the chapter and she can't stop laughing.<strong>

**Special thanks to Meiyo for betaing, Rabidnar for giving me the seekrit to WRITING IT THE FUCK DOWN (and mad last minute beta skillz, yo) and Lauren for what I'm sure is now an infamous suggestion.**

**Now, time for some old-fashioned replies!**

**Daughter of the Wolves; **Maybe I should change the genre to humor/supernatural :P  
><strong>Jasperose; <strong>Pretty much. I don't have the exact number of years she was "passed out," but that sounds about accurate. Also, being a vampire in itself is kind of impossible, so why not be on life support for 20 years? I mean, all she needs is blood.  
><strong>Bebraver; <strong>Will there be consequences, indeed! I feel like saying that alone spoils things, but oh well. I appreciate that you point that out to me. It's like a free pass for not reviewing, but still have the effect of reviewing.  
><strong>Agoodwinpd; <strong>You make a good point. I guess I did something right in accidentally making them that young. Now I'm not so sure why I wanted them older.  
><strong>Rioshix; <strong>I'm glad you care! xD So… does this fall under the "zombie action" category?  
><strong>Lauraluvscasey; <strong>Trololol.  
><strong>MsChloeMa; <strong>You actually read all the replies? Wow, haha. I never have the patience to do so in other fics. There has been some implied Brittana, but, um, I'm going to state the obvious, but they kind of need to reach the group first before there's any of that :P  
><strong>Agron-sexual; <strong>Ahahahaha, omg, your screen name, hahahaha. Ahem. I mean. Thank you.  
><strong>Smayz; <strong>Raising Puck's interrupting powers to a new level in this chapter.  
><strong>Zipper; <strong>Still in awe every time I see your reviews.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Making love to Quinn was a strange, but oh so wonderful experience. Quinn didn't need oxygen, so when she remembered to breathe, it was a very vague indication of how close she was. Rachel had to pay extra close attention to the pace Quinn set, to her unfocused eyes, to her mouth falling open, and at the end, to how she ripped the sheets between her fingers as if it was nothing. The awareness on Rachel's part, together with Quinn's quiet sort of intensity as she rolled her hips against her hand, made Rachel fall in love all over again.

Rachel would never forget the way Quinn lolled her neck backwards in ecstasy, exposing _so much_ delicate skin, before tilting her head back down to shoot Rachel a look that she felt in her bones.

"What are you thinking about?"

Rachel snapped out of her thoughts as Quinn squeezed her waist, pressing her bare torso closer to Rachel's back. "Huh?"

"Your heart," Quinn pointed out, a hand trailing up from its place on Rachel's stomach to come to a rest above her breast. "It's not relaxing."

Rachel bit her lip at the slow sensuality of the action, together with how Quinn was pressed up against her back. Quinn was still hot all over, and she knew she'd forever associate the heat with this very situation. "I wonder whose fault that is?"

Quinn chuckled, lifting herself slightly so she was hovering over Rachel's shoulder. "I am so _terribly_ sorry," she muttered, not sounding sincere at all. She nuzzled Rachel's cheek, pressing lazy kisses to warm skin, and if her insincerity hadn't been clear to Rachel at first, it certainly was when Quinn started to gently palm her breast.

"_Quinn_," Rachel whined, squirming slightly and rolling onto her back. She pouted up at Quinn.

"You don't want to?" Quinn became slightly self-conscious, her hand falling away. Rachel didn't know how Quinn worked, biologically speaking, but she absolutely adored the almost permanent blush that crept up the blonde's neck. She supposed it came with the warmth.

Rachel reached up and ran a hand through Quinn's bed hair, watching as hazel eyes glanced at her cautiously. Quinn's concern that she was overstepping some boundary made her smile. "Maybe I'll need a little convincing," she quipped, earning a huff from the blonde.

"Oh, I'll convince you alright." Quinn stole a quick kiss, then dropped down to press a few kisses to her neck. "I'll convince the sense out of you."

"O-_oh_."

* * *

><p>Rachel hadn't noticed she'd fallen asleep – for some reason, she was usually unaware of losing consciousness around Quinn – until Quinn practically bounced off the bed, calling Rachel's name as she went.<p>

Rachel instinctively covered up. "What? What's happening?"

"Puck is running towards us," Quinn answered quickly, in the process of pulling a shirt over her head. She was already dressed in her jeans, too.

Rachel slipped on her jeans that were lying at the end of the bed, then stood up and started looking for her shirt, despite not really understanding what was happening. "Why is that remarkable?"

An urgent knock to the door interrupted any answer Quinn could give. "Quinn, an engine!" Puck called out. "I heard an engine go past not too far away! Get the fuck out here and—I don't have time to ask nicely, but you need to check it out before they're gone!"

_Oh._

"Just a second!" Quinn responded, slipping into her boots and zipping them up. She walked over to Rachel, who had only just found her shirt. The smaller woman looked up questioningly when Quinn approached her instead of the door. Then it all made sense as Quinn leaned down for a kiss goodbye. "Just in case," she whispered with a smile, and headed for the door.

Rachel was momentarily stupefied into happiness, before she remembered that she should get dressed unless she wanted Puck to get an eyeful.

* * *

><p>Rachel and Puck were discussing the definite lack of super zombies the nearer they got to the west coast when they heard the gunshot. For a moment they stayed seated, listening carefully for any other sounds of destruction. When none came, Puck ran after Rachel and had to hold her down before she actually did something stupid like try to save Quinn.<p>

"Let me go!" she said, wrestling out of Puck's grip with more efficiency than she ever remembered having. "Quinn doesn't ever use her gun. She was shot!"

"Fuck, Spitfire. Settle down," Puck grunted, trying to pin Rachel's arms to her side. He didn't remember Rachel ever being that slippery. Or maybe he had lost his touch. "This is Quinn we're talking about." He lifted the woman from the floor, and thankfully, Rachel became still. Puck wouldn't have put it past her to start kicking her legs or anything. "Quinn is bad ass. She can take care of herself. We've both seen the pile of undead she left behind every time she stood watch."

Rachel whined, tried to shake off Puck in one last, less enthusiastic attempt. She had faith in Quinn's skills, but she just really liked the woman.

Which was a euphemism if she ever heard one.

She sighed. "If she's not back in an hour—"

"She will be," Puck interrupted, feeling confident enough to drop Rachel on her own two feet. He smirked down at her as she folded her arms nervously. "I'm not sure about the idiot who released the shot, but she will be."

She shot him a feeble smile and returned to her place at the table. Everything Puck said was true, but she couldn't shake the worry even if she tried.

"Want to play a card game?" Puck asked after a moment.

* * *

><p>Quinn reappeared. And reappeared was the right word, because one moment Rachel had been on the brink of jumping up and claiming a royal flush, and the next, a cursing Quinn was standing beside the duo.<p>

"That dimwitted bastard shot me!" Quinn stomped over to the table to join them.

Both Rachel and Puck stared for a moment as Quinn sat down, noticing how Quinn was missing her entire right sleeve. It looked like someone or something had bitten it off at the shoulder. Puck's first thought was a shotgun. Rachel's first thought was that she shouldn't be swooning at the sight of a roughened Quinn.

"Please tell me that the Finn you talked about isn't a trigger-happy giant that shoots first and asks questions later," Quinn interrupted the dumbfounded silence.

"We caught up to them!" Puck exclaimed, rather happy opposed to the daydreaming Rachel and beyond annoyed Quinn. He quickly dimmed down once he realized the general lack of enthusiasm in the room.

It was all the answer Quinn needed.

"Fantastic," Quinn mumbled sarcastically. "Well, the idiot and this Latina were looking for spare car parts and gasoline. They want to get a reinforced van working so they can cross the desert."

Rachel looked down at her tightly clasped hands, struggling with the mixed emotions that were whirling around inside her. Finally, they had caught up to the group due to the unforeseen delay that was the desert, but all she had were guilty thoughts. Guilty, because they were of ditching Puck and continuing on with Quinn.

Quinn's eyes flickered over to Rachel. They'd been through enough to know each other's plans, but it still amazed Rachel when the woman told Puck, "We'll bring you to them, and, assuming we don't get shot dead, we part ways."

Despite the implication that they would probably never see each other again, a silly smile spread across Rachel's lips as love bloomed within her heart. It had been so long since someone stood up for her like that.

Puck glanced between the two, hesitant – maybe even worried? – about the decision, but quickly settled for a curt nod. "Okay. That's cool."

"We leave at first light," Quinn said, getting up.

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

><p>Puck was lugging an extra mattress to the bedroom, mostly because he didn't want to sleep in the desecrated bed, but also because Quinn would probably tear him a new one if Rachel accidentally ended up spooning him again.<p>

"Noah?" Rachel stood in the door opening, watching him with big brown eyes. Quinn was nowhere to be seen. She was probably off saving their asses again in one way or another.

"What's up, Baby Jew?" he huffed, kicking the mattress into the corner of the room – far, far away from the door and the bed.

She opened her mouth to say it. Despite everything, Puck was the closest thing she had to a platonic friend. She may not even have any friends at all by the end of the apocalypse, if there even was such a thing as an end to all the misery, and she wanted to appreciate that which she had. There were no words that conveyed the message just right, however, so she simply marched over to the man and circled her arms around his waist.

Puck, having become skittish due to Quinn's thinly veiled dislike of him, flinched at the sudden contact, almost toppling them over. Once he realized that he wasn't being strangled or hit, but embraced, he relaxed into it, returning the hug hesitantly. "Uh, are you okay?"

"No," Rachel sobbed, hiding her face in his shirt and squeezing tighter.

He tried to smile, tried to alleviate the tension somehow as he patted her back comfortingly, but all it achieved was a wave of melancholia he hadn't had the displeasure of ever experiencing.

If the moment hadn't been so serious, he would've been scared when Quinn rounded the corner with a hefty looking water bottle. As it was, Quinn simply shot him a look of understanding and moved around quietly so as not to interrupt the moment.

Later that night, when they all went to bed, Rachel approached Puck again, surprising him with a goodnight kiss on the cheek. He smiled smugly until he caught the glare Quinn was sending him. Thankfully, the woman was placated by the way Rachel then took her by the hand and guided them to the bed.

Puck barely caught himself before coughing out how whipped Quinn was.

* * *

><p><strong>Purposely cutting it off here, because SHIT IS GOING DOWN in the next chapter.<strong>

**I have good reasons for updating this late.**

_**I've been working on a concept called grounds for divorce, whoa-oa-oa-oa-oa-oa-oa-oooooh.**_

**No, I'm not getting divorced, but **_**dat song**_**.**

**Anon; **Oh, come on now. Blushing.  
><strong>Electrictwizist; <strong>HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BELLA. Yeah, there's no way I'm going to update again in 5 days, hahaha.  
><strong>S8105; <strong>Geeze, just scrolling through your review takes more time than answering to some comments. Just letting everyone who reads this know. Because it's awesome. And a little scary.  
><strong>Bats and spiders; <strong>So how about we get this high tea started, huh?  
><strong>Gleefulness; <strong>I know what it needs, but whoa, I'm way too lazy to incorporate those details.  
><strong>Karrotz; <strong>Gah, thank you! Recognition is always loved :)  
><strong>D80p; <strong>Well okay then. I now have an awkward google search history, hahaha.  
><strong>Bebraver; <strong>Rachel is going to be bitten by a zombie panda, and then Quinn, at her wits end, will kill herself by sparkling in front of Italians. Cough. No really, I appreciate the review :P  
><strong>ShadowCub; <strong>Whistling innocently.  
><strong>Smartblonde317; <strong>Those must be some sexy old married couples, then.  
><strong>Rioshix; <strong>That'd probably be more realistic, people dying every second, but I just don't like writing that kind of thing. I think you'll like the end.  
><strong>Maru-jayjay; <strong>Oh, holy hell, that is a big compliment! I'm still surprised every time someone recommends this fic.  
><strong>Lauraluvscasey; <strong>Poor Rachel, having to put up with Quinn's… charms. Yeah, let's go with that.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Finding the group was rather easy. Which basically translated to how they were hiding like ninjas and it took half a day of survivaling to reach them, but were easily accessible thanks to Quinn's – literally – super tracking skills.

It made Rachel wonder how simple it would be to start taking it for granted. She'd probably feel like a frail blind lamb as soon as the security of Quinn's super senses was taken away from her.

The group was apparently hiding out at a gun store, if the heap of bodies with visible holes in them surrounding the building was any indication. Also, the bike Quinn had described was sitting against a wall. The store was practically built in the middle of a concrete plot, making the area around it easily to supervise. In a working society, it would've been a waste of space, but it was so very strategic for a zombie apocalypse.

Before Rachel could speculate on the heap of metal debris right next to the building, Quinn had immediately made Rachel stand back, because, in her words, more dim-witted people had a practically endless supply of stupid ideas. Even though the advice was pointed towards the smaller woman, Puck took it as well. Really, he would've been surprised if nobody thought he hadn't arisen from his ashes to open a can of whoopass on them, served with a side of infection.

So, after Quinn once again volunteered to do the dirty work, she walked up to the building, waving an improvised white flag, which pretty soon granted them access from a bewildered-looking Brittany. Her wary curiosity turned into full-blown glee when she spotted Puck and Rachel, but she didn't squeeze the life out of anyone until they were all safely inside.

Puck disappeared into the house, excited chatter coming from inside, while Quinn stood by rather tensely as Rachel was hugged.

"Brittany," Rachel coughed, patting the woman on the back urgently. "Air!"

Brittany backed away and was about to reach for Quinn, but the vampire quickly stepped back and shot her a warning look. Rachel felt a weird sense of pride overcome her at the idea that she had wormed her way into Quinn's heart, while the ever loving Brittany was kept at a distance.

Brittany didn't even bat an eye at the gesture. "So are you a zombie now?" she asked Rachel.

"What?" Rachel frowned in confusion.

"San keeps telling everyone you're dead." She pouted briefly, but immediately brightened up again, imagination no doubt having gone wild. "But you're walking and talking! Are you, like, a super smart zombie?"

Quinn shot Rachel one of the most hilarious, incredulous looks of all time, and Rachel could only just keep herself from laughing at her expression. Instead, she cleared her throat and reminded herself that these ex-friends had sentenced her to death. "No, Brittany. I'm alive and well." She reached back for Quinn's hand, because the sudden realization that she was abandoned by these people that made her smile made her feel exceptionally hollow. "Quinn saved me," she said, unconsciously pressing herself closer into Quinn's side.

"Well, fuck me sideways and call me Charlie," a familiar voice called. Santana appeared from a room behind Brittany. She looked a lot more weathered than Rachel remembered, her hair having lost most of its shine, clothes dirty with sand smudges and dried blood. That, however, was understandable. What bothered Rachel was that Santana didn't appear half as troubled as Puck said she had been. "I see you veni vidi vici-ed some undead ass."

Rachel briefly glanced over at Quinn when she stiffened, grasping her hand in a tight grip that had nothing to do with comfort and reassurance. Her jaw was clenched tight, eyes ablaze with murder. Rachel ran her thumb across the back of Quinn's hand in the hopes of relaxing her somewhat before she did something drastic. "Yes, no thanks to you," Rachel quipped, more so because she knew that Quinn would throw a fit if she didn't give the group at least a bit of a hard time. The truth was that she couldn't care less about making them feel bad. If it hadn't been for them, she'd never have it as good as she did now.

That didn't mean she felt sympathy for their issues, however.

Santana's eyebrows dipped in something akin to regret, and Brittany took the few steps necessary to stand beside her. To Rachel's surprise, Santana shook off the comforting hand that Brittany offered and snapped, "Yeah, whatever. Who's your friend?"

"This is Quinn. She saved my life." She looked up at Quinn as she said it, noticing how the woman just couldn't seem to relax enough for introductions.

"Is she mute?" Santana asked, trying for nonchalance as she nodded at Quinn.

"No, I just don't like to talk to murderers," Quinn hissed.

It was a verbal hit too much, and Santana threw up her hands in the air in annoyed exasperation before walking away. "Fuck this shit, I'm outta here," she groused.

Brittany looked torn between following Santana and staying with Rachel and Quinn. Eventually, she settled for the pair. "She's really sad." With those words, she ran after Santana.

Rachel followed them with sympathetic eyes before setting them on Quinn. She drew her attention by tugging at her hand. The blonde's shoulders sagged somewhat at the pleading look she received. "They're already suffering," Rachel told her gently, raising her available hand to smooth out the remaining tension in Quinn's jaw.

"They just make me so mad," Quinn whispered, eyes softening as she finally relaxed.

Rachel smiled, hearing the unspoken words. _I care too much about you_. "I know," Rachel replied softly. "But we're fine. They're not."

"Rach!"

Both Quinn and Rachel looked up at the same time, Rachel's hand dropping away from Quinn's face. A group of men came thundering down the stairs at the other end of the hall, with Finn's excited face at the front. Mike followed close behind, but Puck chose to explore another room to the right. That only left Blaine and Artie unaccounted for.

"Why do they keep acting like you just came back from vacation?" Quinn mumbled with barely contained agitation. Rachel was about to respond, but it took only a few long strides before Finn and Mike were standing in front of them. They both looked kind of groggy, like they had just been woken up.

Mike smiled in relief at seeing his ex-classmate alive. "Good to see you again, Rachel."

Finn shot Rachel a million dollar smile before frowning in confusion at Quinn. "Who are you?"

There was a barely noticeable twitch in Quinn's right eyebrow. "The reason she's still breathing," she answered in a friendly tone so forced, Rachel almost shuddered. Finn turned his attention to Rachel, who shook her head and squeezed Quinn's hand in reprimand.

"What she means to say is that her name is Quinn, and she found me after you… _left_."

"_Rachel to die_," Quinn finished under her breath. It was clearly audible for anyone standing around, and they both had the decency to avert their eyes in guilt. Rachel gently nudged her in the side for appearance's sake.

It was in this awkward atmosphere that Artie wheeled in behind Mike and Finn. Rachel didn't think the day would come when she could describe someone as a deer caught in a headlight, but here Artie was, projecting such an expression. After he recovered from the shock – or at least regained the ability to think – he scrambled to back away out of the hallway.

He disappeared again.

Artie, who used to be able to walk last time Rachel checked, was in a wheelchair. By the looks of it, because his leg was broken.

Rachel was left behind because she stumbled a little.

They found Artie a wheelchair.

"_Ow!_" Rachel grimaced in agony, because Quinn was suddenly crushing her hand. "Quinn! Pain, hand, _pain_."

Quinn let go once she realized what she was doing, drawing strange looks from Finn and Mike. She tried to breathe out her bubbling rage, but it didn't help very much.

"Rachel Beth Berry!" a shocked voice called out from the far side of the hallway.

Quinn's head snapped up like she'd been poked by a hot iron, startling Rachel from her mental rant concerning her hand that _must_ be broken now. Before she could ask the woman if she was alright, Rachel was approached and overwhelmed by an emotional Kurt. Tears were barely visible in his reddened eyes, but overall, he carried himself strongly, as if he didn't just meet his dead friend.

Ex-friend.

"Beth?" Quinn echoed softly, horrorstruck.

Kurt glanced up at Quinn briefly, eyebrows knitting together as he appraised her, before turning back to Rachel. "How did you make it out alive?" he asked, reaching over to touch Rachel, maybe take her hand, before realizing the situation and thinking better of it. He straightened up instead, smoothing out his hair with his outstretched hand.

"Quinn helped me out with—"

"_Beth?_" Quinn repeated, in a tone so urgent that it overrode the entire conversation. All eyes turned to her. She appeared to be shaking ever so slightly, barely able to keep her cool. "Rachel." She turned to the woman, looking at her with an insistence that scared Rachel. "Who was your biological mother?"

If Quinn hadn't been so deathly serious, Rachel would've shown her surprise at the question. "I never felt the need to know anything of her, since I had two wonderful fathers and that's all that really mattered. Also, she disappeared around the time that… I… was born…" Rachel trailed off, her mouth slowly turning down into a grimace as realisation struck her.

"_Oh my God_." Quinn covered her face with both hands and turned away from the group, taking a few steps to create some distance between them. "_Oh my God_."

"Oh my God," Rachel echoed, staring into thin air as if she was offended by the sheer thought of oxygen.

"What's going on?" Kurt asked, voicing the question on everybody's mind.

Still staring blankly, Rachel answered, "She's my mom," then shuddered rather obviously.

"_Oh my God_," Quinn said in the background.

Kurt narrowed his eyes at the two. "She's your age."

"_Oh my God_."

Rachel turned wide, static eyes on Kurt, but the man refused to make the connection.

"_Oh my God_."

"What?" Finn asked, trying to read Rachel's expression but failing horribly. "What's going on?"

"_Oh my God_."

"The reason Quinn was able to help me is because she's been a vampire for the past 20something years or so. Apparently, before that time, she had a baby," Rachel recited mechanically. "That was me."

Kurt looked at her sceptically for a moment. He tried to search for any cracks in Rachel's pokerface, except, after a while, he concluded there was no pokerface to speak of. But then why would it be so bad that Rachel was Quinn's daughter? It was shocking, sure, but nothing that deserved pleas to God. Unless…

"_Oh my God_," Kurt screeched at the same time as Quinn. "_You slept with your mom?_"

Mike's eyes widened impossibly, while Finn narrowed his eyes at the people around him.

"What?" he repeated. "What's going on?"

* * *

><p><strong>Finn GPOReaders.<strong>

**In case you were wondering, everything beyond "Rachel Beth Berry" was an April fools joke. So. APRIL FOOLS. Shame on you if you skipped forwards to the author's note.**

**I repeat, the fact that Rachel is Beth, and thus Quinn's daughter, is a joke. A joke joke joke joke. It was either that, or make Quinn into a homicidal killer, but I figured that would be more plausible than Rachel being her daughter.**

**Feel free to review your reactions~ I'll reply in the next chapter, when I'm not medicated into oblivion.**

**At the people who read Restrictions before this: LOL. LOLOLOL. LOLOLOLOL.**


	16. THE REAL chapter 15

**THE REAL Chapter 15**

Finding the group was rather easy. Which basically translated to how they were hiding like ninjas and it took half a day of survivaling to reach them, but were easily accessible thanks to Quinn's – literally – super tracking skills.

It made Rachel wonder how simple it would be to start taking it for granted. She'd probably feel like a frail blind lamb as soon as the security of Quinn's super senses was taken away from her.

The group was apparently hiding out at a gun store, if the heap of bodies with visible holes in them surrounding the building was any indication. Also, the bike Quinn had described was sitting against a wall. The store was practically built in the middle of a concrete plot, making the area around it easily to supervise. In a working society, it would've been a waste of space, but it was so very strategic for a zombie apocalypse.

Before Rachel could speculate on the heap of metal debris right next to the building, Quinn had immediately made Rachel stand back, because, in her words, more dim-witted people had a practically endless supply of stupid ideas. Even though the advice was pointed towards the smaller woman, Puck took it as well. Really, he would've been surprised if nobody thought he hadn't arisen from his ashes to open a can of whoopass on them, served with a side of infection.

So, after Quinn once again volunteered to do the dirty work, she walked up to the building, waving an improvised white flag, which pretty soon granted them access from a bewildered-looking Brittany. Her wary curiosity turned into full-blown glee when she spotted Puck and Rachel, but she didn't squeeze the life out of anyone until they were all safely inside.

Puck disappeared into the house, excited chatter coming from inside, while Quinn stood by rather tensely as Rachel was hugged.

"Brittany," Rachel coughed, patting the woman on the back urgently. "Air!"

Brittany backed away and was about to reach for Quinn, but the vampire quickly stepped back and shot her a warning look. Rachel felt a weird sense of pride overcome her at the idea that she had wormed her way into Quinn's heart, while the ever loving Brittany was kept at a distance.

Brittany didn't even bat an eye at the gesture. "So are you a zombie now?" she asked Rachel.

"What?" Rachel frowned in confusion.

"San keeps telling everyone you're dead." She pouted briefly, but immediately brightened up again, imagination no doubt having gone wild. "But you're walking and talking! Are you, like, a super smart zombie?"

Quinn shot Rachel one of the most hilarious, incredulous looks of all time, and Rachel could only just keep herself from laughing at her expression. Instead, she cleared her throat and reminded herself that these ex-friends had sentenced her to death. "No, Brittany. I'm alive and well." She reached back for Quinn's hand, because the sudden realization that she was abandoned by these people that made her smile made her feel exceptionally hollow. "Quinn saved me," she said, unconsciously pressing herself closer into Quinn's side.

"Well, fuck me sideways and call me Charlie," a familiar voice called. Santana appeared from a room behind Brittany. She looked a lot more weathered than Rachel remembered, her hair having lost most of its shine, clothes dirty with sand smudges and dried blood. That, however, was understandable. What bothered Rachel was that Santana didn't appear half as troubled as Puck said she had been. "I see you veni vidi vici-ed some undead ass."

Rachel briefly glanced over at Quinn when she stiffened, grasping her hand in a tight grip that had nothing to do with comfort and reassurance. Her jaw was clenched tight, eyes ablaze with murder. Rachel ran her thumb across the back of Quinn's hand in the hopes of relaxing her somewhat before she did something drastic. "Yes, no thanks to you," Rachel quipped, more so because she knew that Quinn would throw a fit if she didn't give the group at least a bit of a hard time. The truth was that she couldn't care less about making them feel bad. If it hadn't been for them, she'd never have it as good as she did now.

That didn't mean she felt sympathy for their issues, however.

Santana's eyebrows dipped in something akin to regret, and Brittany took the few steps necessary to stand beside her. To Rachel's surprise, Santana shook off the comforting hand that Brittany offered and snapped, "Yeah, whatever. Who's your friend?"

"This is Quinn. She saved my life." She looked up at Quinn as she said it, noticing how the woman just couldn't seem to relax enough for introductions.

"Is she mute?" Santana asked, trying for nonchalance as she nodded at Quinn.

"No, I just don't like to talk to murderers," Quinn hissed.

It was a verbal hit too much, and Santana threw up her hands in the air in annoyed exasperation before walking away. "Fuck this shit, I'm outta here," she groused.

Brittany looked torn between following Santana and staying with Rachel and Quinn. Eventually, she settled for the pair. "She's really sad." With those words, she ran after Santana.

Rachel followed them with sympathetic eyes before setting them on Quinn. She drew her attention by tugging at her hand. The blonde's shoulders sagged somewhat at the pleading look she received. "They're already suffering," Rachel told her gently, raising her available hand to smooth out the remaining tension in Quinn's jaw.

"They just make me so mad," Quinn whispered, eyes softening as she finally relaxed.

Rachel smiled, hearing the unspoken words. _I care too much about you_. "I know," Rachel replied softly. "But we're fine. They're not."

"Rach!"

Both Quinn and Rachel looked up at the same time, Rachel's hand dropping away from Quinn's face. A group of men came thundering down the stairs at the other end of the hall, with Finn's excited face at the front. Mike followed close behind, but Puck chose to explore another room to the right. That only left Blaine and Artie unaccounted for.

"Why do they keep acting like you just came back from vacation?" Quinn mumbled with barely contained agitation. Rachel was about to respond, but it took only a few long strides before Finn and Mike were standing in front of them. They both looked kind of groggy, like they had just been woken up.

Mike smiled in relief at seeing his ex-classmate alive. "Good to see you again, Rachel."

Finn shot Rachel a million dollar smile before frowning in confusion at Quinn. "Who are you?"

There was a barely noticeable twitch in Quinn's right eyebrow. "The reason she's still breathing," she answered in a friendly tone so forced, Rachel almost shuddered. Finn turned his attention to Rachel, who shook her head and squeezed Quinn's hand in reprimand.

"What she means to say is that her name is Quinn, and she found me after you… _left_."

"_Rachel to die_," Quinn finished under her breath. It was clearly audible for anyone standing around, and they both had the decency to avert their eyes in guilt. Rachel gently nudged her in the side for appearance's sake.

It was in this awkward atmosphere that Artie wheeled in behind Mike and Finn. Rachel didn't think the day would come when she could describe someone as a deer caught in a headlight, but here Artie was, projecting such an expression. After he recovered from the shock – or at least regained the ability to think – he scrambled to back away out of the hallway.

He disappeared again.

Artie, who used to be able to walk last time Rachel checked, was in a wheelchair. By the looks of it, because his leg was broken.

Rachel was left behind because she stumbled a little.

They found Artie a wheelchair.

"_Ow!_" Rachel grimaced in agony, because Quinn was suddenly crushing her hand. "Quinn! Pain, hand, _pain_."

Quinn let go once she realized what she was doing, drawing strange looks from Finn and Mike. She tried to breathe out her bubbling rage, but it didn't help very much. "Let's go, Rachel."

Rachel was about to protest, but then—well, why _would _she stay?

She followed Quinn's lead, who was already halfway through the door.

Mike caught on, and looked to Finn to see if he would intervene. Only seeing a somewhat sad, constipated-ish look on his face, he quickly took matters into his own hands, "No, wait. Rachel, it's not what it looks like." He took a step forwards, catching Rachel's attention. "After we left you, we realized what a sucky move it was, and when Artie got hurt bad, none of us wanted to repeat the mistake—"

"Okay, you know what?" Quinn interrupted, appearing next to Rachel. She never finished her sentence, however, and simply picked up Rachel and walked out. Rachel, slightly dumbfounded, allowed the action. That was one way to make an exit on her backstabbing friends.

Quinn started an angry rant as she walked them away. "Fact: They killed you. Nothing is going to change that. Not even some sob story about how they learned their lesson." Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck, peeking over her shoulder to see two confused faces through a still open door. She briefly considered waving, but then thought better of it. "They could die in a fire and still not comprehend what you went through. And you," Rachel turned her attention back on Quinn, who was still angrily ranting, "are way too nice to them."

"That's not what you said in the beginning," Rachel joked, trying desperately to lighten the mood. She was tired of having rubbed in that her friends had abandoned her and only wanted to focus on the better times.

"Rachel,_ really_—" Quinn stopped, and it took a moment for Rachel to realize that her vision was blurring because of tears. The woman's anger melted away and made place for sympathy.

"I'll take what I can get," Rachel whispered, ignoring the tears that might fall. "I just want to be happy, Quinn."

Quinn eyed her for a moment, drawing attention to the way she was tenderly holding her, before, "Aren't you?"

A smile tugged at her lips. "Well, if you put it like _that_."

In the next moment, a loud noise erupted from close by. It made Quinn jump, even going as far as making her stumble. There was a flurry of movement, and when Rachel recovered from the shock, she saw that she was lying on the ground, with a groaning Quinn hunching over her and clutching at her stomach. Over the blonde's shoulder, she could see Blaine lowering what looked like a sniper rifle from his perch on the roof.

So he had shot something.

Rachel smelled rather than spotted a fresh splatter of zombie on the pavement behind them. The look of horror on Blaine's face didn't make sense, though. That was, until she looked down at Quinn's white irises and the blood slowly beginning to pool near her side.

"No," growled Quinn at the same time as Rachel realized that Blaine had shot the undead, and, on accident, them as well, thereby infecting Quinn and possibly herself.

Pain exploded from Rachel's abdomen.

"_No_."

* * *

><p><strong>What? At least Rachel's not a mother fucker. Aaaahahahahaha. Shit, that joke never gets old.<strong>

**I'll wrap up the story in the next chapter, and it's probably going to suck compared to the rest of the story, but I need some closure.**

**Somewhere next year.**

**I'd reply to reviews (because holy crap, there were some intense stories in there (you know who you are)), but it's keeping me from updating this chapter so here you go.**


	17. THE END

**Chapter 16**

Rachel's consciousness slowly seeped back into place. She felt heavy and warm, which was weird since she couldn't recall the last time she felt like that. Well, maybe except for that one time she caught that awful fever, but even then it felt a little... off.

When she managed to crack open her eyes, she saw her suspicions confirmed. She was nowhere near where she last remembered to be. Though she wasn't as surprised as some people would've been. It had practically become common practice to wake up in strange places around Quinn, which, she realized, would've been awfully dubious had that happened in the normal, pre-apocalypse world.

She must really trust Quinn.

Anyhow.

That didn't change the fact that she seemed to be in some kind of cabin-ish, wooden room without windows. It even included a fuzzy rug and everything. Except instead of cozy furniture, there were all kinds of medical-looking machines displayed around the room. Some of it looked quite intimidating. Especially the iron contraption in the corner with the bars and—whoa, was that an IV attached to her arm?

Rachel quickly gave her body an once-over. Human limbs, check. Pulse, check. Skin, check. Clothes, check. Well, a tanktop and some shorts were clothes. Just not something she would wear out in the street.

Carefully, she peeled back the top enough to satisfy her curiosity. Sure enough, there was an awful-looking scar located on her right side. It was about gunshot size. Or at least she hoped it came from the gunshot.

She took a deep breath. Yeah, she remembered being shot. She wasn't sure who'd been holding the gun, but the searing pain and Quinn's worried expression, yeah, she remembered that. She actually felt a little pity for the shooter. Quinn wouldn't have let him or her go very far, she was sure.

Rachel sat up slowly, anticipating the lightheaded feeling that came with fevers. She gave herself a mental pat on the shoulder for that, grimacing at the thought of the entire room spinning out of control. That was when she noticed the glass of water resting innocently on the nightstand beside her.

She was in a safe environment, right?

No one would poison her water, right?

Yeah, totally.

She downed the water in one go. Well, as far as choking on it several times counted as downing it in one go.

Having seen enough movies to know it was safe to remove her IV – a voice in the back of her head protested loudly – she took it out with a rip. Just like in the movies.

She gasped. Holy Mother of God, that hurt. And bled.

That did not look right.

Before she could remember to apply pressure, the wound had already healed, which left her gaping for a moment.

Wait, no, that wasn't that surprising. Quinn had given her blood to heal the wound and slow down infection—oh. She'd been infected by a gunshot aimed at a zombie. Wow, that would've been a lame way to go.

Noticing a definite lack of "call nurse" buttons, she decided to get up, which she succeeded in, albeit with a little difficulty. But just like the needle wound from a moment ago, the weariness melted away and she was able to walk around like a boss.

She had half a mind to explore her direct environment some more, but the truth was that the machines and contraptions kind of creeped her out, so she left the room instead. The hallway she entered was round and had the same, cabin-like wooden interior. With cheap-eyeing paintings on the walls and everything.

There were voices on the other side of the hallway. Arguing voices. Male voices.

On her way to investigate the voices, Rachel vaguely thought about how amazing the acoustics must've been if she could hear the voices that clearly from that far away.

She paused momentarily. Enhanced hearing? Infection? She swallowed. No, no, no, she had a pulse and had just downed a glass of water. She was undead in no way.

She continued on her way to investigate the voices, only to stop in front of some stairs. Something felt off. For some reason, she knew she wasn't supposed to go up the stairs. No, she needed to turn back and go through the last wooden door she encountered.

Rachel turned around and found the last wooden door she passed.

She had always trusted her instinct. Usually, her instinct was a slight deviation at the boundary between emotion and rationality. Now, however, her instinct had boldly gone where no man had gone before: right into the middle of rational thought. And it told her very clearly that Quinn was behind that door.

Rachel opened the door, completely forgetting about the arguing voices. The room was just as homely as the rest of the building, perhaps even more so due to the definite lack of scary contraptions. There were about four strategically placed bunk beds with plaid covers and white sheets, along with other traditional bedroom furniture that Rachel did not care about to contemplate.

She did not care, because the bunk bed in the far corner was occupied by a body with a mop of blonde hair.

_Quinn, Quinn, Quinn,_ her gut yelled.

She hurried over, but she didn't jump the still body as she had originally wanted. Mostly because she wasn't sure if Quinn was still hurt or not, but also because, once there, she realized that this person was snoring softly.

Quinn was literally a corpse when she slept, so this couldn't be Quinn.

_Shut up, it's Quinn,_ her gut responded.

Rachel leaned over the bed carefully, trying to catch a glimpse of the sleeping figure's face. At the same time, the figure turned around in a sleepy haze, halfway jumping out of the bed when it saw the figure that was Rachel looming over it. "_Jesus Christ!_" Quinn flailed.

"Quinn!" Rachel cheered, finally tackle-hugging the blonde.

"Rachel?!" Quinn yelped, trying her hardest to catch what felt like a life-sized energizer bunny. That was kissing her face. The relentless assault didn't stop, however, and she really needed to talk to her, so she resorted to more drastic measures. She wrestled Rachel into a stranglehold.

A moment of heavy breathing.

"I see you're feeling well enough," Quinn finally said, allowing her stranglehold to not strangle so much anymore.

Rachel wriggled in Quinn's arms until they were nose to nose. In that position, her hair was trapped awkwardly between an arm and her face, but she didn't care, because Quinn. "I am," she breathed, happy smile in place. "I do have some questions about that."

Quinn nodded, breaking out into a lazy yawn.

"Amongst other things," Rachel said, noting how Quinn appeared to need oxygen now. "How is it that you're breathing? Are you faking it?"

"No." Quinn blinked lazily, looking as if she might fall asleep again at any moment. "I'm alive," she said, lips tugging up into a big, genuine smile.

Rachel's eyes grew large and her jaw slack.

"Apparently, I wasn't supposed to be undead. I was supposed to be human. A super human," she explained, loosening the hold she had on the shocked Rachel. "It's a funny story, actually."

Quinn took Rachel's silence as the go ahead.

"Scientists named Albert and Digros," Quinn grinned goofily at some kind of memory she was remembering and Rachel suspected the woman drugged, "had adapted the zombie virus to create the superhuman antidote. They had first counted on me—um, _us_, to have a hunger after undead flesh. Y'know, so that we had a good reason to kill them."

Rachel's eyebrows dipped down into a confused frown. She was absorbing the information, but it wouldn't quite click into place.

"Anyway," Quinn continued dryly. "I was one of the first to be infected and saved, but there were still some kinks in the solution. That's why I was dead. Digros says the mutations and procedures were so traumatic that my brain reset itself and reverted to the last safe memory I had. Or something along those lines. So that explains the awkwardly timed amnesia." She closed her eyes and licked her lips, seemingly collecting her thoughts. "Then—then you were shot by your friends, and I wanted to kill them all, but I wanted to get you to Salvation more."

Rachel knew she was supposed to have an emotional reaction to this, but all she could feel was safe and warm in Quinn's arms. She tucked some stray hairs behind her ear and settled to listen to Quinn's story. The woman didn't seem intent on stopping on her account any time soon.

"I thought they were going to kill me, 'cause they shot at me last time, but they helped us. No questions asked." She opened her eyes slightly, and trailed them over Rachel's face. "Well, the questions came later, but you were dying."

At Quinn's pause – and general spaced out appearance – Rachel prodded the woman slightly.

Quinn shook it off. "Um. The mutagen in my blood had fought off most of the infection, but they had to alter… _things _to keep you alive."

"So I'm super human, too?" Rachel whispered. She wasn't sure why she was whispering. Maybe it was the intensity with which Quinn had told the story. Which was pretty impressive considering her drugged appearance.

"Yeah, born from my blood." Quinn nodded slowly. "But not my daughter," she corrected hastily.

Rachel frowned at the odd remark, but then found herself smiling nevertheless. "So that's it? We're okay?"

"I'm okay, you're okay. We're okay," Quinn said softly. The words sunk in slowly, allowing her to relax and close her eyes again.

Rachel felt like squealing.

"We have to help restore the world though," Quinn mumbled.

"Only the world?" Rachel asked sarcastically.

The corners of Quinn's lips quirked up into a silly smile. "We can do it, we're _super._"

"We're super _together_!"

A pause.

"Wow, Rachel, that was horrible."

"Sorry."

_THE END. THE END. THE END. THE END. THE END. THE END. THE END._

_**Read this author's note.**_

**I know it's a UNDESERVING, SUCKY ENDING for such a long ongoing story and I probably forgot a few things, but really, you couldn't get anything better out of me even if it involved torture devices.**

**Now, if you'll excuse me,**

**THE END.**


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